self-sacrifice

A poem of my mind

Life slips through my fingertips,
My grip slack,
My awareness distant,
My time here ending.
I hear the darkness of eternity calling to
me,
And it's voice is that of an angel.
Still, something keeps me down,
stops me soaring with the angels above.
I try to shake it off, but it is too
strong.
Then i see what it is,
What is drawing me on,
Forcing me to live.
Duty.
I realise then,
If death is truly an escape,
Duty is the prison-guard.