Death

This is a poem, carved on a wall to a crypt (hence the subject of death).

When the Dead Lady looks upon me, what will she see?
My past, my future and that in between
My heart, my soul, my faith, my belief
A coward or the man I once could have been?
What will she see when she looks upon me?

I see her in my dreams, I see her in my sleep
She is death, but also life in all it's glory
She is loving and caring and although I have wept
I know that death is but the next great step

She is judgement day, she will choose my fate
But I must not cry, I must rejoice
For she will be kind to me
And though you are scared, do not flee from her
For evermore, you shall be interred
In her loving arms