An Old Friend

I find a comfort in knowing that death is close, 
It's soul soothing to know that all the pain and hurt felt will be no more when my
soul leaves this entrapped body. 
Some would say that death means the end of a life; I believe it is the beginning of one,
for is it not true that when one soul passes another is created?
Too many souls live without sensation, not experienceing fully feelings of 
love, hate, remorse, happiness, sadness. 

My soul is blackened with the sensations of all emotions, some not yet named. 
My burden has been yet to bare; not vanquished from this world nor from this heart.
I wish to seek understanding and compassion,
yet find no such graces from those around me.
I am trapped.
Only to be freed through my own self discovery. 

I find comforting in knowing that death is close, 
I relish in the soft whispers that Death passes by my ear,
reminding me of my impending doom.

But he does not answer such calls lightly, 
like an old friend, he comes when necessary, when most needed.

For now,
this black soul must endure.
For it is not yet my I must live and let live. 

I find a comfort in knowing death is close. 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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