One Last Breath

Death has captured my soul,

My soul: a willing slave.

Marked by the Curse Of Oblivion:

I am a memory that fades.

Enrobed by the chains of melancholy,

I walk a broken line

It leads me to a cold dark place:

The prison of my mind.

Old dreams lie around gathering dust,

Broken thoughts engrave the floor,

Relationships - fixed and broken:

So frail, so cold

What hits me first is the stench of death:

The death of a million things:

A million hopes, dreams and aspirations,

A million broken wings.

A million things I left unsaid:

Things that died on quivering lips.

A million tears I did not shed,

And the few which my mask hid.

For all these things now I grieve:

A grief - dark and complete.

For the broken, battered and bruised soul

That I find myself to be.

Tonight I wait for the angels:

Angels of Death to sing me to sleep

For tonight, my soul shall be laid to rest.

Tonight my last I shall breathe