My Death

Tweet

Come forth now, o death that you, my assailant be put to shame. Your hands have no grip and your fangs shall never taste my blood. For from afar, you shall watch as streams of peace, perfect peace flow like rivers through my veins and across my nerves. My breath shall be still like mountains amidst winter and then smolder like mist in the morning sun. Then shall my soul be still in bliss in beholding beauty in the world of forms. How do you wish to die?