Heaven

Here I sojourn, lonely and cold,
With Death awaiting--his macabre fold
Swinging arms wide with disturbing mirth
As they urge me away from this Earth.

O, Death, I look to thee
To answer this charge:
Will I be free
When I pass the stars?

In the silence, he swings deadly scythe
And morosely ends my journey in Life.
But, question unanswered, I hold to the past
Stubbornly clinging, grasping fast.

O, Death, I look to thee
To answer this charge:
Will I be free
When I pass the stars?

With patient fortitude, Death looks on
Apathetically watching the dusk turn to dawn.
I haven't the strength to keep up my game
And let myself go as Death takes down my name.

O, Death, I look to thee
To answer this charge:
Will I be free
When I pass the stars?

Stars I have passed
And taken in stride,
And here at last
I'm found to reside.

--C.R.E.