Gods
The Reaper kneels upon my grave.
I feel his hands so cold.
He bids me to be strong and brave
and come into the fold.
Softly, he begins to sing
of other worlds to see.
A universe, a great beyond
that is expecting me.
I reach out and grasp his cloak.
We walk into the night
until we reach a golden door
that opens into light.
I find that I envision all
that was or e'er will be.
And that the gods of legend
all reside inside of me.
Copyright © David Irby | Year Posted 2015
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