A preying mantis guards my doorway
Performing its rhythmic, beguiling dance
Stealthily shifting in strewn sunrays
Catching the mortally curious in its trance
Offering its projected pair of scythes
The death-dealing reaper is at hand
Thinking it but a flower in the breeze
By natural order your demise is planned
Unnervingly darting triangular head
Twitching, springing clutching claws
Waiting with perfect patience in the passage
Cut to your corpse upon which it gnaws
Yet this particular guardian is special
Do not be fooled by facades of sensation
For its arrival interceded in my temptation
Shielding self-destruction, my adulation
For this day I shan’t go out
Witnessing its predations keeps me inside
My lustful longings have met their match
Behind this spiritual sentry shall I hide
About the Creator
Nick Jameson
Of the philosopher-poet mold, though I'm resistant to molds. I'm a strongly spiritual philosophical writer and progressive ideologue. I write across genres, including fiction, non-fiction and poetry. Please see my website infiniteofone.com.
Keep reading
More stories from Nick Jameson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.