"Silent End" | A poem on a bitter truth of life | Written in 2024

The winds that speak in hollow moans,

Tell tales of what awaits—
A whispered breath, a heart that’s stoned,
A closing of the gates.

No footsteps mark the final door,
No cries, no weeping, no refrain.
Just silence deep, forever more,
A peace that shuns the world of pain.

The earth, it opens wide and cold,
Its grasp, both soft and sure—
A final home where bones grow old,
And flesh cannot endure.

Death walks with footsteps slow and deep,
A smile, a bitter sigh—
And in its arms, we fall asleep,
With one last, fleeting cry.