The Depths of Death

The Beginning,
It starts as a murmuring;
Growing louder with each passing breath.

From down the hall,
Its footfalls echo;
A soft clap of thunder with each step.

A knock on the door,
Bones rap against the wooden post;
Wind rustling through naked limbs of an ancient tree.

Within the room,
Shrouded in a robe of darkness;
Life fading.

At the bedside,
Anxious eyes widen;
Wildly searching for any means of escape.

A whisper in the ear,
Laying on of Primordial hands;
Sudden chill calming quaking heart.

A silent thought,
Easing of mind;
Recognition of a timeless friend.

Rising up,
without pain;
Relief in freedom.

The Beginning,
It starts as a murmuring;
growing louder with each passing breath.