Face of Death: Sweet Release

Everything I touch descends

To nothingness and darkness

Disintegration is my power

I hold no moral compass.

Degradation and despair

Follow my nightly dues

For noone is ever ready

When I come to out their fuse.

I exist not alone

I have siblings far and wide

My touch, though, is simple

Your last breath is a sigh.

No pain or discomfort

I plague you with no agony

Just gentle whispers in your ear

That tell you to come to me.

You obey resolutely

Without fear or remorse

No hesitation, you take my hand

And traverse this shaded course.

I lead you not to a happy land

Or one with brimstoned fire

My job alone is to vacate your soul

And leave your body to expire.