Death On a Troika

With wheels aflame and beasts of savage Hades,

He breaches the stratum of the underworld.

In his pursuit of mortal souls, he squeals and shrieks

And spurs on his evil beasts.

He spares none who cross his way,

The sentinel is he to the soul’s gateway.

 His victims plead and pander to the merciless spectre.

Yet fear and penitence offer no refuge,

Once death has cast his shadowy glow.

Who art thou who devoid us of mortal life? they entreat

But only silence pervades their plaintive pleas.

His deed finished, and soul banished

Adorned in shadowy armour, the phantom never rests

A doleful reminder of what awaits is he,

To the righteous and to the vile.

Rohan D. Premkumar