Belated Halloween poem (automotive related)

[deathsled]

Did the finishing touches this evening.  One to something else...
The Eleventh Hour
By
Richard L. Elsliger

T'was the hour of eleven
The roads were clear and dry
My car was running strong
No sense that I could die

On and on I drove
Racing through the night
Carving up the land
Chassis hanging tight

Trees on either side
Flanked the dreary road
Pines of massive size
Far from my abode

Then from round the bend
Came two shards of light
Piercing through my eyes
Adding to my fright

Straight into my path
Time is running out
Life has changed its course
Death has changed my route

On toward my fate
Brakes flared red to warn
It's too late to change
Death has blared its horn

My life is ending now
No more can I complain
My spirit leaves the wreck
Fast death through high octane

[Side-Oilers]

Richard:  The last line of each of the last three stanzas are excellent.  Good phrasing throughout!   Thanks for posting.

[deathsled]

Richard:  The last line of each of the last three stanzas are excellent.  Good phrasing throughout!   Thanks for posting.

Thanks for reading, Van.  I unwittingly seemed to emphasize the word "death" to bring home the fact of its approach.  I hadn't even noticed until you mentioned it.

I threw up a youtube short with a read using the Laguna as the backdrop.
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/4chwkdhOBLM

[FL SAAC]

Fast death through high octane.....well it looks like to me like brake failure....morbid, very morbid

All kidding aside

What a magnificent poem. I loved it all, the stanzas though speaks volumes to me.

The beauty is there it is like they draw the curtain to move the set pieces in a play.

When the curtain reopens it is still there for us to enjoy and relish in, even though we are forever changed because of that grief.

Oh Oedipus  !

Thank you for sharing your splendid but morbid poem here with us.

I do look forward to many more like this to come.....de nuevo muchas gracias y bravo !

Curtain falls, audience stands and continues to clap vigorously for the next forty minutes as the curtain falls and rises numerous times

[deathsled]

Fast death through high octane.....well it looks like to me like brake failure....morbid, very morbid

All kidding aside

What a magnificent poem. I loved it all, the stanzas though speaks volumes to me.

The beauty is there it is like they draw the curtain to move the set pieces in a play.

When the curtain reopens it is still there for us to enjoy and relish in, even though we are forever changed because of that grief.

Oh Oedipus  !

Thank you for sharing your splendid but morbid poem here with us.

I do look forward to many more like this to come.....de nuevo muchas gracias y bravo !

Curtain falls, audience stands and continues to clap vigorously for the next forty minutes as the curtain falls and rises numerous times

Thank you for listening Mr. Hertz.