Death's Sweet Embrace

 I sit here waiting, silent and stoic,
 awaiting Death's sweet embrace.

 

 I yearn for, I live for,
 in the end, I die for.

 I await his grasp, covered in a hoary frost,
 which I desire greatly, as haggard as I am
 with the agonizing pain I suffer from now.

 

 His touch will certainly be dreadful,
 but at the same moment alleviating.

 

 For his cold touch will give me succor
 from the torment I endure, day and night.

 

 My eye-lids are heavy with fatigue,
 my body is succumbing to algor,
 and my mind is fading into shadow.

 

 I sit here waiting, silent and stoic,
 awaiting Death's sweet embrace.

 

 I sense his presence, closing in fast on me,
 getting nearer and nearer every second.

 

 Breathing rapidly, my body tingles strangely,
 relieving my mind of all fears and doubts.

 

 A transparent cloak of ebony envelopes me,
 curing me of pain and regret, of terror,
 instilling in me a sense of pervading hope.
 
 I lie still as can be, revelling in the transference
 of my spirit from this world into the next.

 

 My body stiffens ever so slightly,
 signalling my ascent into afterlife.

 

 I am gone...
  

Reviews

[GalaxyGhost]

This is an interesting poem that feels like lulling one into an eternal sleep. It has a sleepiness in it that you captured perfectly!