My Body

Based on Beowulf-meant to be Beowulf's dying proclamation and reflection.

My body
'Running wet with my life blood,'
Surging from my wound-
Staining the soil with its presence.
My mind,
Attempting to remain at ease.
Consoled by a name
Never dimmed-
Nor asphyxiated by the hands of my opponents.
As I linger
On the brink of death,
The claws of a conquered foe grasp my being
Dragging me to the hell they have been condemned to.
Bodies huddle under the cracks of light
Infiltrating the darkness that surrounds them;
Scattered souls searching for their shadows,
Frightened by the arrival of their eventual demise.
But just as the sight of such misery
Begins to exhibit its effects on my person,
The forceful grip that holds me captive,
...recedes.
As I emerge from the depths of a dwelling
Known only to sinners,
My apprehension is quelled.
Overcome by a wave of relief,
I look back on a life well-lived.
Lives both lost
And saved,
Strength proven,
Hope restored-
Murder?
Justified.  
So as I die,
I envision the tides of time washing ashore
And returning this vessel to the rightful sea to which it belongs.
Infinite harms from this world do seem to flow,
But death is no such thing.