What is that solemn sensation of release
A thrust of a knife and thy heart may cease,
For the seeping darkness covers you slowly,
A mission by God, an act called holy.
Suffocate my soul that may kill the devils essence,
Though the wings without shade do assure of his presence.
His wings wide with a scythe in hand,
"I am here to but follow his command"
Oh Arael Oh Azrael I see you do not lie
Take me away to the sky, so shall we fly?
Yes we may for how humble is your kiss,
Am I to go to that bottomless abyss;
"Nay my lady cruel I see not your heart"
"But smile now my dear, we are about to depart"
Ah I see, what is this boat I do sit on
And who might this be, a rower named Charon
He bows and grins wanting coins as pay,
I touch my bosom, "I have none" is what I say,
In shame he smiles towards Azrael,
Sheer horror and sting, I should call it surreal;
But as I went down that river known as styx,
My mind began to fog and I forgot those strong links,
Forgotten my Father, my mother and my swain,
For now I do not have to endure that pain.
