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A fantasy about a dying man, and where he was destined to go.

Final hour

Pz-avatarby Socrates 194304 May 2014

Final Hour.

The sombre lady spoke to him
It was midnight in his room
He was lying hurting sadly there
Beneath the weight of doom
That Cancer eating at his body
Would all be over, soon.

“My child” she whispered “time is nigh
For you must come with me.
This time was chosen by the power
This be your destiny.
You’ll cross the river Styx, then home
That place where you be free’

He cried “My lady, take me not
For I have much to do
My wife, and children need me here
I cannot come with you
And lady I have so much fear
That’s eating at me too”.

“My child” the lady softly said
“Have you forgotten home?
Where the flowers bloom, and the music plays
T is a place you well have known.
You left it for this World my child
When you came here all alone”.

He smiled at her then breathed his last
And she held him to her breast.
Then they shimmered off to join the breeze
And felt loves tenderness
As the sombre lady ushered him
To the gates of happiness.