The Dance of The Death

By Anustup Sengupta

I watch my death;

Pathetic and cowardly as it could be,

Spitting my life’s ignominy,

Poison in my every breath.

The mountains I had refused to scale,

The choppy waters which I had to fail,

Cursing me at my plight.

‘tis timid to go down sans a fight.

Only, the Braves receive death as a wish,

Hallowed in the heavenly swish.

The sinners rot in hellish anguish.

Derelictors like me are left to languish.

They stack me upon the pyre,

Jibe and mockery glint the fire.

Then they break into a Dance of Death,

Issuing of the Necromancer’s Faith.

The flames engulf me quicklier,

As if, two detached souls embracing each other.

The purest Element is on a mission to devour,

A fresh, abominable Cadaver.

There erupts a high conflagration,

The testimony of my feeble proposition.

The heat then dehisces the Skull,

The Devil’s Workshop is ephemeral.

Look! What is between the fiery brackets ?

Raging flames in a Man’s silhouette !

Fire in his arms, fire in his soul,

Fire in his veins, like a rampaging Troll.

The Light emanating ignites the Fire,

Scorching instantly the Eyes of Ire.

His deafening roar is flabbergasting,

Like a gluttony Cannibal prowling.

continued

“I’m the Incarnation of the Blood Seed.

I take birth from thy very deed.

Destiny : thou another name for consolation,

Karma is for my redemption.

Dead are those who twit.

Defeat is when I Quit.

Even the Devil’s prayers are heard,

Mine, when I use the Shard.

I’m unfathomable, indestructible and surreal,

Ever since I have left the ephemeral.

Now, am the Wrong, am the Right.

Am the Time’s mighty Wight.

Now, that there’s ‘Poison in my every Breath,’

Devil is my very Faith.

I am his mighty wraith,

Watch my Dance of Death.”

By Anustup Sengupta