Death – Card 13 – Tarot
Measured footfalls ring,
metal-shod on cobblestone,
and call the ravens from the roofs.
I thought him fiction, icon, myth,
yet here I swing and here he comes.
Armored knuckles clang,
rapping iron with ivory,
and summon darkness from the earth.
I dreamt I was exempt from this
yet here I hang and here he comes.
Winter fingers snap
with quick and sure finality,
and serve the warrant of the grave.
I was a priest, a mage, a prince,
yet here I am and here he is.
July 3, 2016