the dead

I stand now at death, its doors

called by those that have gone before.

I wonder, will this moment be the end?

My last symphony, my life's mend?


To this moment, my head will bow

life hangs on a long-dead bough.

Onward, I away from light

to the unknown, the darkest night.


One last time, a hand to hold

to live this life one must be bold.

Onward now, to never look back

go to the night, the deepest black.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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