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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2340821

A contemplative poem about Death

I think a lot about Death-
How it could come at any moment,
Pull me in for one last gasp,
In the blink of an eye;
With the stealth of a whisper.

I think a lot about Death-
The Reaper's hollow eyes, voids that swallow light,
A shadow weaved by the loom of my thoughts.
In the boundless mosaic of faiths.
Not all can be true.


I think a lot about Death-
Resting beneath the Earth's embrace,
Maggots composing beautiful symphonies,
The casket rotting to grant them entry,
Soon lost within the labyrinth of stone.


I think a lot about Death-
Perhaps it's not all shadows and sorrow.
Perhaps there is a glimmer at the end of the tunnel,
A silent eternity dissolving life's final breath.

In the sanctuary of my belief, solace whispers softly.
A peace that transcends the fear of death.

I think a lot about Death-
But perhaps I need not dwell on it.

In contemplating life's end,
I find the courage to cherish each moment.
In the eternal waltz of life and death-
I discover the sacred essence of each fleeting breath.

© Copyright 2025 Ethan Wolverton (jankedyman at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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