Follow the Reaper

Like a thief in the night  
he comes. Unseen and  
unheard. Gently he lays  
his hand over your heart  
and wills it to stop.  
Silently Death captures  
your last breath and  
with that your soul.  
You are coming with  
him to the afterlife.  
The Reaper takes your  
ghostly form by the hand.  
You are off to the promised  
land.  
Up from the earth,  
though the clouds under  
unknown stars you travel.  
Still his bony hand in yours  
when you see it:  
The City of the Dead.  
Here in this place devoid  
of life, ends forever your  
worldy strife.  
Here you are at peace,  
from the sad duty of living  
eternally released.