The Cold Embrace of Death

Heinous are the horrors in the rages of war after it makes its purchase of pawns. Brave are those following orders with a salute. Some will never see their homeland again for the reach of the reaper is relentless. He is a cimmerian chasing after souls, a stalwart fiend approaching in dark pursuit. I am a soldier trying to escape his clutches but my chest was the target of a mortar shell. Lying alone, body bleeding in a trench, I linger, wondering if this is where I die ~~ on this dismal edge of the abyss of hell. I look for stars glowing in the sky but there are no lights shining down on me. My vision is too blurry too see for the hand of Death keeps trying to close my eyes. I beg and plead, "A few moments more." before I hear piteous painful cries and realize the voice is mine. I have no choice but to accept this merciless fate, knowing this ditch will be my burial place. A wretched grave for a brave soldier, but one no longer fearless and willing to die. Soon, I will feel no pain for Death is moving closer to my side. I cannot hide my fear and disdain as tears mingle in the streams of my blood. Numb to it all, I will soon become. My battered body is being bathed in rain. I feel a chill flowing in my veins, draining me of life as if it were a succubus. I'm too weak to fight for one more breath. Death is claiming me, not as its friend, but with arrogance of one who holds power. Thoughts ramble in my last hour, my mind holds profound sullen images of characters in history ~~ I will not die swinging from a wooden gibbet and no dagger will be thrust by Brutus's grasp. Poison Hemlock of Socrates, I will not prohibit. but Death will claim me just as he did Cleopatra when she was bitten by the fangs of an asp. Against the cold embrace of Death's persecution there is no reprisal, no hope left for me. Silently, he will abscond with my life before dawn.