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Graceful Death
O Death, come hither, thou art welcome here;
Thy peaceful silence seems a blessed end
To black despair. How I long to descend
To welcome folds of naught. I have no fear
Of quiet dark; 'tis ecstasy to bear
No burden but thy presence, welcome friend;
With everlasting stillness to attend;
Infinitesimal soothing spirits near.
But what of terrifying judgment call;
And what of the finality of death?
Is this a horror? Last, ultimate fall?
Has meaning ended with that final breath?
Grim Reaper is not grim; death is a door
To tranquil, graceful rest forevermore.
