i think about Death

I think a lot about Death– How it could come at any moment, Pull me in for one last breath, In the blink of an eye; With the stealth of a whisper. I think a lot about Death– The Reaper’s hollow eyes, voids that swallow light, A shadow weaved by the loom of my thoughts. In the boundless mosaic of faiths. Not all can be true. I think a lot about Death– Resting beneath the Earth’s embrace, Maggots composing beautiful symphonies, The casket rotting to grant them entry, Soon lost within the labyrinth of stone. I think a lot about Death– Perhaps it’s not all shadows and sorrow. Perhaps there is a glimmer at the end of the tunnel, A silent eternity dissolving life’s final breath. In the sanctuary of my belief, solace whispers softly. A peace that transcends the fear of death. I think a lot about Death– But perhaps I need not dwell on it. In contemplating life’s end, I find the courage to cherish each moment. In the eternal waltz of life and death– I discover the sacred essence of each fleeting breath.