The death of the god of death

My name, Thanatos, resides on all their minds. 

Death personified right into its living and breathing form, finds itself in a graveyard as a gravedigger, greatly confined.

A retired escort to the pits of fire is in itself the greatest of ironies. Who shall latch thier arms with me? Shall I clasp my hands together and give my reflection a longing kiss on the signifying ring of the Fates? 

The heavy nights bring heavy fog and with every glance towards the chapel sitting uphill, the fog intices me and robs me of a sane mind and allows me another drink.

It intoxicates me to the brim with my own home remedy of self-loath.

A jokers foolishery possesses me and turns me into a faltering cripple on legs of jelly-- it feels me with glee; I am so close to finding me.

In my old age, I wager bets with myself alone. I am the shadow that looms over your grave, shoves into the Earth the dirt you have been crafted from and hands it back to you. I am the darkness that whispers itself to you when the Fates deem it so. I am all the horror and nightmares you have ever imagined, but I am not heartless. 

I am the one that gingerly kisses you once, twice, three times-- knuckles, cheek and cheek. I am the one that will ease myself into the enclosed space that you leave for me and rest my head on your shoulder, ease my breathing, and cry with your soul for the life that was wiped whole.  

I too, fall into the depths of the darkened Earth. I am not the immortal they fold their hands to and draw outcries of plea, tell me you forgive me. 

Tell me how even the hottest of flares will be able to touch me when the undertaker himself cannot even love me. Will not grab these shaking, aging bag of jagged-edged bones to be his own to devour.

Yet, I clutch close my spade and close my eyes to the welcoming darkness that holds within my own whispers and smile, like all the spirits that sit in the forever flames still allow me to play my wicked games.

When I open my eyes Thanatos is back. He is a mere breath away- on his breath the repelling stench of all deceased past and the ones on their way.

¨My love do not cry, for I have found my way back to you, forever here to stay¨


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