23h
In stillness deep, where shadows bend,
I watch, unseen, the long world end.
One pale hand stirs the winds to sigh—
The breath is lost; the soul slips by.
The earth still shivers at my touch,
Yet none take heed, nor feel too much.
Faint whispers drift through moonlit air,
While ether shrugs, too still to care.
Most strive to unlearn my name,
Denying me through wealth and fame.
I am the law, life’s final thread—
The end will come, and all things wed.
I watch, unseen, the long world end.
One pale hand stirs the winds to sigh—
The breath is lost; the soul slips by.
The earth still shivers at my touch,
Yet none take heed, nor feel too much.
Faint whispers drift through moonlit air,
While ether shrugs, too still to care.
Most strive to unlearn my name,
Denying me through wealth and fame.
I am the law, life’s final thread—
The end will come, and all things wed.
In this poem, Death is not a shadowy figure lurking in the dark, but a calm, inevitable force—a quiet presence that watches over the cycle of life. Through stillness and restraint, the speaker embodies Death, offering a meditation on its impartiality and its role in the greater order of things. Here, Death is not feared or mourned, but acknowledged as a natural law, ever-present yet unseen.
(24/M)
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