The Goodbye

A poem about death

Today I sat beneath a
beautiful blanket of death. It was
thrown over me so quietly
as I slept, I felt neither it's
fury, nor it's warmth. For, I, As man,
had built my own haven. Housing my
earthly form in warmth, I fed my soul
on the words of man.
And watched my fellow man come forth from
this beautiful tool of death. Seeing
them become victims of this wondrous
creation of our maker. Caring not
if it is man or beast,
God has come to claim his toys.
He will reshape them and then place them
back on his passageway of life.
I now must go and join them,
for I too, long for change.