At Your Final Hour

When I come to

greet you, Knocking upon

my door

I embrace you in my arms

as i lead the way.

I carry you away to

'A better place.'

Through your shrieks and moans,

your pleads to stay

I give you a reassuring smile

and continue upon my way.

Along the way we take a

trip down memory  lane,

we see all the hurt you've caused

and some of your happiest moments.

We see the people you've killed

and the people you 'saved'

in the name of your country

in the name of steadfast belief

for loyalty to your 'king'

and yet you don't even believe.

I'm about to guide you to crossover

 when i see your body limp on the battlefield,

stone cold cause rigor mortis is setting in.

They are all gathered around

trying to revive you.

I look and  laugh at the sight,

no way in hell shall i

 let you go.

Not now, not when you're so close.

It looks like you're about to stir.

I toss you into the fiery pits of

the anihilator anyway.

I let go of your soul.

Your fate is out of my hands.

I don't know what happened,

I don't know how it happened.

But now you're free.

I must take you back,

I look and laugh at the sight.

I must take you back to the

cold, cruel world in which you dwell.

But remember my friend,

I won't let this happen again.

Author's Note

please ignore grammatical errors