My Lady Calls Me
Death is calling me;
Her sweet voice I cannot ignore.
She beckons me with one slender, pale finger
Adorned with The Moonstone ring.
She carries the knife
-with which to slice away my useless, broken body.
She holds the silver spoon
-with which to dig out my pure, white soul.
She stands upon the scales,
-with which She uses to test my worth.
Will I pass the test?
Will I be granted entrance into Her Home?
Death is calling me; She shall be kept waiting no more.