Sitting in Michael's Lap
Deepening shadows chase the fleeing light,
Empowered by the promise of the night --
A willing lover offers dark embrace
To those who dare to look upon his face --
His visage cold, his eyes of onyx made;
Impartial, Death performs his solemn trade.
Silent, he waits: the hallmark of his trade
Never to rush; outwait the failing light.
Obsidian his gaze -- their blackness made
To hold the ebon void of endless night.
Abysmal depth in unrevealing face,
No soul escapes his perilous embrace.
Ensnared in this internecine embrace,
No sooner caught but any man would trade
Dearest of dreams to see his lover's face
But one last time -- to stand in dawn's first light
Unworried for the coming of the night --
Too late, these dreams; and thus are nightmares made.
The kings and slaves by him are equals made:
Herein, they all are one, and all embrace
Effusively the solace of the night.
Still, e'en adoring darkness, they will trade
This lasting peace for one caress of light --
And then, unrest in ceaseless midnight face.
Reward eternal, now, the slain must face --
Their pact with shadow, sealed in silence, made:
Outcast forever from the realm of light,
Forced exile seems a welcoming embrace.
A quest for peace, with souls bestowed in trade,
Now those who loved the sun revere the night.
Enduring and secure -- beloved night
Wild beauty in his all-concealing face;
Jeweled monarch, chthonian, and Death his trade --
Of souls and shadow are his vestments made.
Unchanging and relentless his embrace,
Reclaiming wearied souls from brutal light.
Nocturnal liege, no light shall mar your face --
Eternal night, your kingdom we have made;
Yon dark embrace the mercy of your trade.
You cannot choose the way of your death, but the path you choose will determine its own end.