Crossing the Bridge, by Neal Dastoor

The Scream, by Edvard Munch (Norway) 1893

Crossing the Bridge

As he walked by the fjord, I saw 
Munch pause to draw a breath,
Unbeknownst to him I was, 
the bridge between life and death.

To take him to the great beyond, 
to guide him to his end,
accompanied him two faceless fiends, 
death disguised as friend.

The lake turned black, the sky blood red,
painted a picture of demise,
I saw the face of unease turn 
to gaping mouth and hollow eyes.

Death gave him a shout, 
a silent wailing scream,
a stab of fear, a pang of angst, 
the pain of unfulfilled dreams.

Then all at once 
it left his side.

What caused this change of plan?
Could it be that fate had erred, 
and sent for the wrong madman?

Time erased most memory,
of the scream and ghostly face,
In his mind’s eternal asylum, 
his torment made its place.

Fleeting visions Munch rendered, 
with oil and palette knife,
And that expounds how near death 
gave birth to The Frieze of Life.

Neal Dastoor

Neal Dastoor is 17, a grade 12 science student from Mumbai, India. His interests are chess, reading and math. He won second place in Ekphrasis-II, a student competition held by the O. P. Jindal Global University, India.