He loves me
He wraps gentle arms around my torn body
I smile
Beauty reigns over him
Wind sweeps his scent into my nostrils
Tears fall—
Tears from those around us
Stronger arms grab me—but—
But his touch never leaves
He calls me
Like a child to their mother I let my heart run
The strong arms fade but—
His are still there
The tears seem miles away—
But him—
He never lets his presence cease
I ask him for his name
He replies softly
“I have many
I am called Murderer to those who I have taken from
Future to those who live in the now
Inevitable to those of faith
I am not even acknowledged by those who fear”
I cut him off using my last breath to reply
“Sweet Death—
I call you—My Love”