Grim Reaper

Image Credit: Generated by OpenAI's DALL·E. In the silence of the early hours, It entered the place, Passing beds of frozen white, It stopped beside you, at last. Dressed in black, this figure unseen, Your soul it came to collect. I couldn’t reach to hold your hand, As you breathed your final breath. In waking hours, your coldness I touched A thousand times, I blinked my eyes. A thousand times, I gazed at you, But you were still, like the vast sky I stared at in aimless misery. Disbelief still clouds my mind on days I lose myself, And on days I smile, like a twisted knife, Leaving scars that heal and reopen in repeat. The inevitability of death doesn’t lessen the sledgehammered blow When the ones we love are the first to go. Six feet under, I never thought it’d be this soon. But now, it's the peace you need and deserve. It’s the rest you were robbed of through the years, The end of suffering—a reminder of your endless sacrifice, And your rarity in this world.