Epitaph

I vanished in the midnight wind
Neath silver glare of hallowed moon
Pale mistress Death, she calmly grinned
And firmly held my hand too soon.

Into the night, I quickly flew
As deep despair possessed my mind
To shadowlands, my spirit drew
And left the mortal life behind.

And now you read this chiseled poem
As whistling wind in moonlight plays
Forever will my spirit roam
While quickly pass time's fleeting days.

Don't call on me, I can't explain
Death's mystery, in nature, lies
Someday you'll walk that misty lane
Far past the clouds of Autumn skies.

by Night Flyer (c) 2010