Dusk and damp, dimming light.

The sweet and musty smell.

Of death by night,

I fear your unknown hell.


I hear soft voices drift away

As I approach your door.

So far, yet near, I seem to sway,

And then I hear no more.


At last my restless soul is free

From body, pain and fear

To know all things, all things to see.

Alone. No soul is near.


This realm of death, this vast expanse

Like space without the stars

Like falling through

An endless trance.


I laugh at life, for now I see

I smirk at fear of hell.

This is not hell, nor heavenly,

Just space without a shell.


I laugh at those who have their god

To strive for day by day.

There is no god, just mirk and mist

Where now I’ve lost my way.


With those who drink, and merry make

I raise my glass with glee:

“To death” at night,

Mere words to take symbolic’ly.

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