Death does not speak of

tarnished dreams & dismay.

She does not endure the compromise

of a sound, mortal life & decay.

Death only knocks, Once in a time,

a being feels out of place.

Each heartbeat, a moment closer.

To that special evening we dare not face.

Prelude to her kiss, touched by the toxins

of serene waste. Only to nourish that hidden

answer, of that one final lap we all must race.

Above a thousand angels, Below the final abyss,

Marvel upon her lips, And drink to eternal bliss.

So darkness meets those eyes, of energy beyond

the grave. Not a moment further... lying, in that

tranquil dream, time forgave. now of cold skin,

pale heart, torn soul, a gentle touch guides through

and through, then lifts you upward towards the light

as Death finally speaks, wishing you...

a “goodnight”.