The Dark Bride

Oh, but to imagine Hell;
A world where death isn't a thing.
Exasperating eternal torment
In a mud of flames where one continuously sinks.
Oh, Death, you sweet relief
To the more certain hell;
You beautiful crescendo that illuminates all that is brief
Letting no one know of your beauty, hidden behind uncertainty.
Death, your tender nature, which knows no pain,
Arises every single child, woman, and man.
Dancing fallen leafs in the months of autumn,
Setting the rhythm for the seasons to come
As you softly lay on the ground
And allow for new flowers to sprout and be whole.
Death, you majestic encounter of all that was made
And all on the making and all of the mays
And all that occurs in the universe or once was there laid
To feed your hungry belly in both night and day.
Death, you juggler of stars, galaxies, presents, pasts,
Futures to come, endings and dawns,
All that surrounds us from firsts to lasts,
Firsts to seconds, times and no times.
Potent flame well hidden in nowhere;
Master of hide and seek
Who never makes the counting,
Always pulling tricks.
Sweet child of the desert,
Living, yes you are.
Be the day you're gone catastrophic for the living and the past.
Be yourself my mistress at the time of my departure,
Take off your cover, let me feel you,
And let me see the world from a different angle
That dissipates with time as the sand in my sandles.