Still
Laying here, no movement, and feeling bound,
no air passes my lips, can’t make a sound.
My eyes are open, but I can’t see,
no images or flash of memory.
A light does emerge from far away,
the light feels warm, I will not stray.
From within the light, a muffled voice,
no offer of hand, or to a choice.
The voice says that it’s time to go,
I murmur a refusal, he motions no.
My soul is his to retrieve, to be judged,
his mind is made, it won’t be budged.
He gently guides me into the light,
I’ve no fear or sense of fright.
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