Canto XIII

A nod to the Master, Dante Alighieri

Suppose I took my life and died,
unable to face another dawn,
another twenty four hours,
a day of demands, of demons, of dark despair.

So mired in my misery that I,
cut short the time allocated to me.
Stop the clock.
Take time of death.

Torn I tumble into hell,
too late now to change my mind
tortured take the form of tree
misshapen, twisted, harpie feed.

Surrounding me a thousand faces.
Each one tells of a moment lost.
Each the time of some soul's premature passing,
and one of those,
would be mine.

Line count: 17

Written for the Dark Dreamscapes Poetry Contest October 2021, Week 4, Prompt 2.

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