The Time Of Seamless Black

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

The dread cloaked figure slithers in from the edges of the shadows of my room –

It spreads out its bony fingers as its embrace sends chills through my body –

I experience intense consciousness knowing my hour is limited to minutes –

Its sunken eyes inspect my pallid vesture as I lie growing ever still.

I am falling in love with the expectation;

Its carress is the last I will feel.

I smile, seemingly content with my fate –

It smiles, content with its prize –

Its hand swallows up my trembling hand –

My vestments are ghostly white catching the wind;

I am lifted upward lighter than air –

The sky becomes the earth , the earth hell.

I close my eyes and cross my limp hands over my chest –

I am content with my grave,

The time of seamless black.

Happy Samhain

~`Magia`~