A/N: It was 2AM, and I couldn't sleep, so I attempted to write something in iambic pentameter. This morning, I realized mine does not fully fit the requirements of the format. Just pretend it does, for the sake of the poem. I admire Shakespeare for being able to write so much in such a strict format.

O, hush my distempered breath! New light has
Been revealed, a door burst open from its
Hinges. Be still, my ever-racing heart!
'Cross the threshold the journey shall begin.
Slow, the raging winds of time, for darkness
Is vanquished by truth, and the fire of
Life burns brightly deep in the eyes of the
Departed. This strange life beyond living,
A life after death, unburdened by yore.
This is every man's fate forevermore.