deepundergroundpoetry.com
A warm embrace
Soft voices,
Singing melodies,
And harmonics,
In foreign voices.
Tranquility,
Beneath a tree,
And a creek resonating,
The beautiful song,
Sung by the mystics,
And by the nymphs.
Slowly,
The clouds drift,
Across the blue sky.
The fleeting dream,
Rests here.
Draft your energy,
To the earth.
Sleep and rest.
Take your last look,
Upon this world,
An be relieved.
Yes they will miss you,
And have heavy hearts,
But you have been through that cycle,
You've felt that pain.
Your closing eyes see a hand,
Extended for you.
As you look up,
You see a scythe in the other hand.
Looking at the face,
You see a full and beautiful face.
"it's time"
As you take the hand,
You realize,
Death isn't a cold dagger,
Running through your heart.
Suddenly,
It's arms wrap around you.
Then it strikes you.
Death is not an icy grip.
Death is a warm embrace.
Singing melodies,
And harmonics,
In foreign voices.
Tranquility,
Beneath a tree,
And a creek resonating,
The beautiful song,
Sung by the mystics,
And by the nymphs.
Slowly,
The clouds drift,
Across the blue sky.
The fleeting dream,
Rests here.
Draft your energy,
To the earth.
Sleep and rest.
Take your last look,
Upon this world,
An be relieved.
Yes they will miss you,
And have heavy hearts,
But you have been through that cycle,
You've felt that pain.
Your closing eyes see a hand,
Extended for you.
As you look up,
You see a scythe in the other hand.
Looking at the face,
You see a full and beautiful face.
"it's time"
As you take the hand,
You realize,
Death isn't a cold dagger,
Running through your heart.
Suddenly,
It's arms wrap around you.
Then it strikes you.
Death is not an icy grip.
Death is a warm embrace.
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