Crossing death

It frightens me to think

That soon the streak of light

I see with these eyes

Will fade.

And all that will be left is

A black never-ending.

Not even the buzzing red

Still imprinted when I close

Those lids

Those curtains to image

Memory.

And soon,

The feeling of your

Tears on my skin,

Worn and wrinkled at the

Harsh beat of time,

Will disappear,

Diffusing into numbness.

I think I might

Even miss the pain in my body.

The soil that misses the grip of roots.

Yet all of these emotions

Are useless

And stop not the

Inevitable. So

I'll smile at the prospect

Of adventure, of the chance to,

As you would say,

Spread my wings and fly,

And cross a boundary uncrossed,

Never to return.

...

Death is to be my release.