OMEN OF MY DEATH It was rugged country; I passed through a precipitous ravine. This was a valley of some depth and could only be entered from the southeast, I had enough fresh provisions with me for a small feast. Passing through a chain of soapstone hills, A fissure in the soft rock attracts my gaze. Squeezing threw my horse seemed nervous as if sensing danger, Or was he just bored with this endless rocky maze. Birds assembled in vast numbers as the wind had entirely ceased. Then the bird’s noise seemed eternal chirping into my mind, Their tune had broken and spoiled the peace. My skin felt cold it was the perfect whiteness of snow. Prickly sensations crawled up my spine then into my skull, My horse had stopped bolted to the ground and would not go. I looked around my perception told me danger, My cheekbone twitched from a bead of sweat. Then I saw it was I mad or in a dream? Those eyes so large or so it would seem. A monster it had to be, or a demon of some dimension. My impulse was to draw my gun but my arms lay dormant by my side, My horse was bolted also eyes transfixed gapping wide. I was now unmeasurably alarmed was this an omen of my death? Or worse? The creature moved gracefully towards me, Flourishes of dust cascaded disturbed in its dream like wake. My whole body still rooted in the saddle began to quiver and shake. Reaching inside my spirit was gone forever, A power, an opiate vapor, dewy, dim, engulfed my shell. Wrapping around my life source, sucking, draining me to oblivion, Darkness no pain just an endless rush to the gates of hell. Through the portal I was thrown my soul to the devil locked in stone. Is this my end because of my sins? In a world of the dead? My soul a stagnant tide? Madness, sphere’s of woe? Birds laugh around…chirping…chirping…chirping.Birth sign: Scorpio
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