From the monarchy of the past
We are chilled for her coming
Death, that spark of our reincarnation
Who sums up our karma in her Will
Beloved are the changes of our fates
That destiny spills with such great beginnings
Our ill health begets for what she came
That many times our body might rise again
For the supersession of breath
*
And a hundred alternate futures
Our mind confronts the murderous men
Who orchestrate wars in her gaze
Death, how she knew me to the bones
Man created this, for his own profit
As women enjoyed giving life in all that they did
But we live on an Earth that serves
The profit of a few, so death offers them
No final freedom either, only the power of knowledge
The fleeting pleasure of a few kingly years
From our station of birth we are built
To confront the meaning of our brief life
In the shinning darkness of a final abyss.
Photo Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Irene-377267462
Wuji Seshat 
Dark, well-written and lovely.
Dark is hard to do, but death is a great topic for a poem I think. How could I tire of love or death poems, do tell>?
I agree. I am most inspired by dark subjects in life, love and otherwise. I enjoy reading your work.
honey, are you somehow channeling the Wisdom of the Ancients? are you really, really, really writing these all your own self?? or are you metaphysically doing what mature artists do in actual life & just stealing them from all the dead lamas who ever existed? tell me, i simply must know
Great words friend, somewhat of Blake in it?
I do quite often read Blake….