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.
Copyright © Ethan Wolverton | Year Posted 2024
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