My death is dear to me

My death is dear to me, a shadowed friend,

A companion in the dark where all roads end.

It walks beside me with a quiet, soft grace,

Whispering secrets in a hushed embrace.

The world fears its name, yet to me, it is near,

A familiar presence that quells every fear.

Soft are its words, like the rustling of leaves,

Yet lethal in truth, like the blade that deceives.

In the stillness of night, it calls out to me,

A siren’s song from a boundless sea.

Its touch is cruel, like a winter’s cold breath,

Yet in that cruelty lies a release from death.

Harsh is its voice, like a storm in the sky,

But within that storm, a calm I rely.

It promises rest from the burdens I bear,

A final escape from life’s wear and tear.

Yet there is joy, twisted and strange,

In this inevitable, unbreakable exchange.

Happy the thought, as twisted as it seems,

To dance with the dark, to drift into dreams.

But that happiness is tinged with despair,

For every joy carries a weight we all share.

The sadness is deep, a shadowed abyss,

Where joy and sorrow merge in a silent kiss.

Tired is my soul, worn and frayed,

By the endless battles I’ve silently waged.

In the stillness of death, I find my peace,

Where the noise of life finally does cease.

There’s a solace in knowing the end is nigh,

A quiet comfort as the moments slip by.

In death’s gentle embrace, I find my saint,

A figure painted in life’s final faint.

Yet here lies the paradox, sharp and clear,

Stay away, stay close, to the end we all steer.

In this dance with death, we’re both near and far,

Like distant planets, like a fading star.

Together in silence, yet alone in our pain,

Bound by a thread that we cannot explain.

My death is dear to me, a truth I embrace,

A cold, steady hand in life’s frantic race.

It’s the final chapter, the closing verse,

An end that’s both a blessing and a curse.

A bond unbroken, where life bids adieu,

In death, I find the path I must pursue.

It’s a love so strange, so bitter, so sweet,

Where joy and sorrow ultimately meet.

In the stillness of night, as I draw near,

My death, dear to me, is finally here.

-Ajay Vaghela

I am tired.