The Scales of My Defiance
When Death comes to court me (as someday she must)
Beyond the teasing prelude of our hide and seek marathon,
On the skull-ground sands of all my sins,
Splashing in the sanguine surf of memory…
I’ll find she dons your lovely face,
Adorned in a mortal veil of your crimson locks,
Brandishing her scythe through your wicked smile,
To shear the last cord of earthly pride…
And when I take her hand (as sometime I must)
The last mischievous illusion will crumble…
And I will be forced to finally accept
The mystery of you on your own terms.
Yet a secret delight will birth me into infinity
That against the scale of my surrender…
You must take the life I ached to give you,
This collage of dreams you once cast away.
© 2008 Melissa Cross. All rights reserved. No part of this piece may be reproduced without the express permission of the author.
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