In the hush of twilight's lamenting sighs,
Beneath the cloak of starlit skies,
Whispers weave their somber tale,
Of Death's embrace, where shadows pale.

In life's grand symphony, Death's refrain,
Echoes softly, a mournful strain,
Guiding us with gentle hand,
To where all paths converge, all journeys end.

Oh, how we cling to fleeting dreams,
In the face of Death's relentless schemes,
Yet in its grasp, we find release,
From the chains of time, from fear's increase.

Transient beings in a world of woe,
We dance with shadows, to and fro,
Seeking solace in moments brief,
A fleeting respite from life's grief.

Let us embrace the void's embrace,
And in its depths, find sacred space,
For in Death's cold, unyielding hand,
We discover beauty, where none planned.

So raise your voice to the endless night,
And bid farewell to the fading light,
For in the arms of Death, we find,
The essence of life, in morose design.

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 12th of Omeian, in the year 2 AC.