In preparation for a zombie post, I’d like to share a Gothic-esque poem on death. Basically I’m procrastinating writing the actual thing by writing loosely related things. So here’s a poem:
On Sleep and Death
I’m so tired, all I need
is one hour of sleep indeed.
I don’t yet need to be so blest
with the long, eternal rest
that brings deep sleep, and then, it seems,
brings us to eternal dreams.
If you should pass before I go,
there are some things that you should know:
I’ll wish to follow ‘cross the great expanse,
but dare not for so small a chance
as finding you as once you were.
Instead, to fate I will defer,
for, so I hear, we’ll be so changed
we’ll seem wholly rearranged.
For now the road is closed to me
and Death remains a mystery,
and so, patient, I will wait
for Time to open up the gate.
Perhaps when I have reached the end,
Death will be a welcome friend.
Ideas and Inkstains 