The angel of Death whispers
Close to my ear.
He tells me stories of life after death,
Then whispers, "Your time is near."
I am content, I have no fear.
For if his stories are true,
Then death is best.
Wild flowers bloom year 'round,
Snow falls, but is never cold,
Horses run free without saddles,
And you never have to carry your own load.
I am so excited, I cannot wait,
And so I run to the edge of the cliff
And leap over the rocky edge.
As I near the end of my fall,
I close my eyes in half-fright.
But there is no impact.
I open my eyes and look around,
Oh how beautiful it was.
There were no flowers, no snow, nor any horses,
But what I saw was the sweetest sight,
For I saw you through my very eyes.
