Whispers of Eternity: A Poetic Reflection on Death

In shadows' grasp, where silence reigns supreme,

Death whispers softly in the midnight's gleam.

A solemn specter, draped in timeless shroud,

It beckons all, the humble and the proud.

No mortal soul can evade its gentle call,

From peasant's hut to grandest palace hall.

In every heartbeat, in each fleeting breath,

It walks beside us, silent, still as death.

Yet not a foe, nor harbinger of dread,

But a companion on life's journey tread.

It lends the dance its bittersweet refrain,

A solemn passage from joy to pain.

In fields of poppies or on windswept shore,

It echoes softly, knocking at the door.

A peaceful slumber, a final sigh,

As souls ascend beneath the starry sky.

Embrace its grace, though tears may overflow,

For death's embrace, a tender undertow.

It frees the spirit from its earthly chains,

To soar beyond where mortal mind restrains.

So let us cherish life, its fleeting art,

And find in death a gentle counterpart.

For in the circle where all life must wend,

It whispers softly: "I am not the end."