It's just more business

[SoulofChrysamere]

Self-written poem inspired by Keanu's "It's Just Business". I'm more of a storyteller when it comes to writing poems. It's probably not as dramatic or eloquent as Keanu's but I try.

 

 

 

You walk along the footpath, while twilight's giving way

To nighttime's splendid darkness, as you mark another day.

Another fragment of your life, tucked away in store

For peaceful reminiscence, 'til your gone forevermore.

 

 

The moonlight slowly filters, through the flowing boughs

And cool air fills your nostrils, and all the heres and nows,

Lead your mind astray, from a paramount induction

Of wariness aplenty, to stave off destruction.

 

 

Your lazy gaze is panning, but your sluggish eyes deceive.

You're life is wholly safe, they've led you to believe.

After all... the wildlife, neglects to tread this road

Since hunters from all over, have made it their abode.

 

 

But then a jolt of pain, sends shockwaves through your spine

And you crumple on the ground, that's caked with moss and brine.

Your shell of peace is shattered, and there is no respite there,

From Torment's lasting anger, as you grapple with despair.

 

 

Your eyes snap to your leg, which has turned the deepest red,

And the thought flashes past, "Will I soon be dead?"

Hope leaves your fading side, with tears filling her eyes,

As she scolds your naive nature, and disdain for being wise.

 

 

The crimson tide is flowing, and the floodgate cannot close,

And you slowly realize, that you're in your last throes.

The metallic scent engulfs you, as does the growing pool,

Of precious reddish fluid, that's calling you a fool.

 

 

You scream for help in earnest, with a scratchy, desperate sound,

But there is no being there, to hear the frantic sound,

Save for one small shadow, that hides among the brush

Who tarries for a moment, to hear your spirit's crush.

 

 

But then he rises up, and leaves his grassy shield,

To look upon your plight, his planning's grotesque yield.

He nears your dying body, and sneers with dark delight,

At the arrow in your leg, as black as Lady Night.

 

 

Your feeble, drained flesh trembles, and dimming eyes depict,

Your final image of this world, before from it you're kicked.

And as the transit happens, Death whispers in your ear,

The tongues of pain and torture, of hopelessness and fear.

 

 

For Death enjoys no preference, in when or how you die.

Your life is the one thing, that catches his dark eye.

And Death will claim them all, each mortal shell his own.

And cherish them forever, each scrap of skin and and bone.

 

 

So quit the foolish running, Death always has his way,

In the end with you on earth, his is the final say.

Greet the tightening clamp, with courage alabaster,

And immortal great respect, for Satan's puppetmaster.

[Keanumoreira]

Holy crap. I inspired this? Wow...I don't even know what to say except thank you. I didn't think such a worthy work of art could come alive from someone like me. I feel honored. Thank you Soul. :blush:

[SoulofChrysamere]

Indeed you did, my friend! :D

 

 

I don't think it's as good as yours, but I felt compelled to turn the inspiration into words before it was gone.

[Maharg67]

Very excellent, SoulofChrysamere. I would give you kudos but I have already done so. Instead have 1,000,000,000 honorary kudos!

 

:thumbsup:

 

:dance:

 

:wink:

Edited November 19, 2011 by Maharg67

[Keanumoreira]

Very excellent, SoulofChrysamere. I would give you kudos but I have already done so. Instead have 1,000,000,000 honorary kudos!

 

:thumbsup:

 

:dance:

 

:wink:

 

Make that 1,000,000,001. :whistling:

[tokyobiohazard]

This was really great O.O You're too humble with your talents, Soul and Keanu. You're both great poets :3 I can barely rhyme lol

[AurianaValoria1]

Excellent piece, Chrys! A great expansion of Keanu's idea. :thumbsup: