A Child, a Guide, an Old Friend
rating: +12+x

Do you fear death?
Do you fear closing your eyes,
To lose what little of you is left?

Do you fear the cold?
Tired, hot, curled up in the snow,
Your life may forever go untold.

Do you feel your fingers?
The muscle and tendons rot away;
The smell of decay lingers.

I feared death;
I closed my eyes,
Thinking there would be nothing left.

I feared the cold;
Feeling hot, I took off my clothes,
Nothing but myself to hold.

I felt my fingers;
The brittle bone now revealed,
The smell of decay no longer lingers.

Tired, I decided to lay
In the snow, alone I stayed,
Closing my eyes and waiting for day.

I welcomed her cold embrace,
Her little fingers
Holding my face.

Appearing as a smiling child,
Her hand held out,
I was beguiled.

Reaching out with a frozen hand,
I grabbed onto hers.
The world felt bland.

She helped me stand, and I looked down
Seeing myself
Lying on the ground.

“You’re lucky,” I heard the girl say.
“Most of them
Wait for days.”

“Who are you?” I asked curiously,
“Not a child. Perhaps,
An Angel to guide me.”

“Not a child,” she did contend.
“Not an Angel,
Simply a friend.”

Until I calmed, she stood by my side
Death, her name,
Not an Angel, merely a guide.

A child holding onto my hand,
Comforting me
As I left this land.

Do you fear death?
She comes for all,
Waiting for your last breath.

I feared my end
Until she appeared:
A child, a guide, an old friend.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License