I’m in love with death. Around me everyone dies…

I love youthful virgins, with tearfully sad eyes,

I love walking in shadows in the crimson dusk,

Trampling on dead leaves that are rotting in the dust,

Musing about bones that the fallow soil covers,

Nourishing the pain caused by departed lovers,

And agonising long over words harshly said,

Or the hot parting tears departing lovers shed.

I wallow in memories burning in my soul,

About human bones in ovens blazing like coal,

Mass graves in open fields with red poppies atop,

Blood-soaked metal helmets rolling amongst the crop,

Burnt out shells of buildings, tainted with blood and soot,

A firing squad in line, ready to execute,

Jackboots on cobblestones drumming an alarming beat,

Bloodied, half-dead soldiers, trapped in hasty retreat,

Corpses of dead horses stuck in deep slimy mud,

Burnt fields and forests devoid of a living bud,

Skeletons of bridges hanging in fast rivers,

Shrapnel-torn, red human flesh shredded to slivers,

Dark shadows of skeletons dancing in the night,

‘Round flickering flame of a memorial light,

Burning under a long, parched memorial scroll,

Whilst in broken church tower a bell sadly toll.

I’m in love with death. Around me everyone dies…

My dreams are full of memories, full of sad cries.

In the depth of night, when I shall sigh my last breath,

Death will liberate my soul… I’m in love with death…

Postscript:

When death’s dark shadow finally closes my eyes,

Life still continues in a variety of guise.

Life and death… one can’t really separate the two…

…I’m in love with death… I am in love with life too…

© P. J. Oszmann (2008)

© Illustration created in Photoshop  (2008)