Date with destiny

 

Running late

for my date

with destiny,

and tomorrow

has arrived way

too early.

If I can stave off

that meeting

for as long as possible, I will.

I want to keep feeling the tide,

this high of life.

I want to feel the thrills,

not the edge of a knife.

 

You knocked three times,

maybe more, whilst I was away

mind laying on distant shores.

I always kept a tight bolt over the door.

You tried to call. I won't ever answer.

I have too much to do

My life only just advancing.

like a dancer that has regained

the feeling in their feet 

for the first time in years,

or a drummer

that has found their rhythm,

the beat in between the ears.

 

I hear the knock, knock, knocking.

Bone fingers rapping, tapping a rhythm

on my door like nails on a coffin.

Knock.

It repeats over and over.

Knock.

A grating sound penetrating my mind.

Knock.

I can't escape the dreaded sound.

Knock. 

Now it has lost its shock.

I expect every beat,

but I remain steadfastly in my seat.

 

You knocked so much,

your fingers must

have ground into bone dust.

You knocked so often,

the fear had gotten

replaced by boredom.

So, I stayed. I won’t be leaving

until my time is outplayed.

I have so much more to do,

so much more to say.

So, keep knocking.

I won't answer

until my judgement day.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love & Poetry 

 

Kyle