Death cranes her looming head to gaze into my soul. Holding out her shriveled paper thin hand she offers her services to me; to take me, release me. To free me from this body, the human condition. The condition that maims innocents.
I want to slip my soft pink hand into hers, to accept her offer, to be free from my earthly existence. But...
I know it is not my path. I have asked for her to visit me many times before, but I know now is not my time. I have more to learn from this reality.
Death, thank you for your offer. For your comfort and caring. I will come, just not yet.
1 comment:
Yeah, stick around with us a little while longer if you could. I'm glad to see you're on blogspot, I'm looking forward to reading more of your dark, insightful writings.
much love,
Adam B
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