This is a Sherlockian poem that I posted on my LJ a few months ago, describing the events of Reichenbach through the eyes of Sherlock Holmes. It's freeverse, just to warn you. Enjoy!
The Place of My Death
The day dawns brightly
Far, far too brightly
Two shadowy forms ascend the mountain
Outside my bedroom window
And all of my instincts tell me
That this is the day of my death
The hotel manager's smiling face
As he tells of these falls, these glorious falls
Does nothing to allay my fears
I hear of this place, this Reichenbach
This name, so syllabic in its menace
My soul grows cold with the knowledge
I have heard the first rumor
Of the place of my death
Oh loyal companion
Can you see my heart tremble
Can you see the trepidation with which I look
Down into the swirling waterfall's chasm
Down to the place of my death?
These waters are mine
In a terrifying way
They call my name
They were told the ending
Before the tale began
They know they have a claim on me
And they whisper it to me
"We are the place of your death."
Oh, there is such certainty
In the way this place speaks my name!
A summons, forged
My instincts do not lie
A doctor is needed there, they say
They lie
It is not a doctor needed there
But a friend that must not be here
In the hour of my death
Do not leave me here alone!
No
Send him away
I can't let him stay here
I can't let him follow me
Into the place of my death
Friend, the selfish desire rises within me
As I watch your back retreat from my sight
For the last time
To have you by my side
But I cannot
It must end this way
I too have a summons I cannot ignore
This is the place of my death
And so I stand by the falls of Reichenbach
And wait
Foe, you cut off my escape
But only because I intend you to.
This matter between the two of us
Must end here.
It may be that you will succeed
In throwing me into the chasm
But I swear this:
For the sake of the world I leave behind
I shall now go down into the abyss alone
Come at me now, death
I am ready for thee.
What is this?
I saw my death rise up before my eyes
And yet it passed
And I find I'm still alive
I gaze down through the mists
Of this, Reichenbach
My foe, vanquished
There was a death here
And the death was not mine
And yet, for the sake of the world
This shall be the place of my death
They cannot yet know that I live
Von Herder's air gun and its bearer
Remain to haunt me and those I care for
He is somewhere near
Yes, I must die, if not literal death
It will be better for the both of us
If he calls this the place of my death
Friend, this death would be so much easier to bear
If I did not have to listen to your tear-laden voice
As you call my name.
Finis