This is an ekphrasis on L’Agonie by Felicien Rops.
Sonnet on Death
Demons clutch at your rib-cage ladder
Grasping the arteries, choking your veins
Your bones are now fragile and ready to shatter
Oh dear, you look quite pale.
Your bloodless skin is as thin as paper
With cavities where worms slither in.
A struggling heart still resisting the Taker
Until the last light of your flickering
Vision begins its decay to oblivion
Succumbing to the pleasure it’s finally giving.
But is it not called reverse necrophilia
If it’s the dead that desire the living?
The underworld pathway is yours to descend –
Hail to the king who will triumph in the end.