Poem The Papercut Of Doom

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So great to see @Jessicalynnt return, along with her poetry challenges. The first is to use the following five words in a verse penned within an hour. " storm, wash, fall, bird, hope." Here goes. The Papercut of Doom Cruel sliver takes on the task of reaper scythe, Bringing forth a storm of dread agony verily this must be the veritable end O poor Art and all his dreams. Vile paper cut Scratch barely visible not allowing even one drop of crimson essense to fall hast though slayed gentle I? No sympathy comes from jeering witnesses seeing me as being pathetic in my despair addled final seconds of air intake. Go forth, little sparrow bird of hope And seek out if there be a God or not Once and for all. Whisper my name to the angels So they might prepare a cloud for my soul to bed upon And wash the World with their tears At my premature departure From this coil, Writer, write thee no more Felled by the paper I deemed friend, Only to be betrayed as it nicked My favourite finger. The gathered harpies call me mard, exaggerating my pain In near Shakespearian Ham, But this feels more akin to death than the near miss stubbed toe that last brought me to such final woes. Ow Ow Ow. Prepare to balance thy pennies on my eyelids Summon forth the undertaker, mourners, And Media for the time has surely come. Pen me a golden obituary. Have a drink in my memory, prepare flowers and cards for my relatives A kiss and 'there, there Dear' will not do This is undoubtedly the last moment Before the pine box and Valkeries Ride down to bear me away To sup with brave heroes in Valhalla. Ah, the pain eases, another false alarm jape from the cowled rider of the Ashen Steed practicing for the day he ceases joking When you'll all stop laughing At my little misfortunes Realizing that this time It was the real emptying Of the hourglass of my breaking heart. You'll rue that day as much as I rue this. Youtube Chris De Burgh Don't Pay The Ferryman Arthur Chappell