Sweet Comfort
Tired,
sweet comfort
slips in
yawning.
So exquisite,
no resistance,
carried away
as if on a wing.
And then,
no being, no seeing,
sleep,
a certain end.
Will death come like this,
a sweet embrace,
holding, warming
drowning in honey ?
I asked life
over and over
to reveal her secrets,
while there was yet time,
but no answer came.
I asked again
a thousand times,
until all questions
just vanished.
And then,
to my surprise
all that remained
was the honey.
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