by Darren James Clayton

Created on: October 10, 2008

The Fear of Death.

There is no way to escape it.
No shelter from that dormant storm,
That lies ahead.

It flies in the dead of the night,
Seeking those who cannot fight
It's faceless terror,
It's suffocating presence.

It is close now.
So close I can feel it
Pulling me down.

I try to run.
I try to run from the pain
That is to come,
From that place I know not.

Death outstretches his
Shadow unto me.
And I am overcome.
As cries of death tear the air.

I am falling.
Falling through nothing,
Faster than the shadow
And light.

I feel nothing.
No pain.
No cold.
But warmth.

A light is brightening,
So bright,
So welcoming,
So pure.

I am flying.
Flying with the angels of Death.
Not through fire,
But to a home I find faintly familiar.

Death is but a blessing.
A blessing from the hell in which we live.

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