Don't leave me behind

As I wander through these mists,
passing the massing of those dead fists,
passing the massing of those in wait,
grasping the everlasting fate.

Passing those who’ve met their sleeper,
whom the angels named Grim Reaper.
There is none who can evade his scythe,
the scythe of death, last breath, full night.

And upon these mists I gazed,
glazed with lives and from lives raised,
as the saint viewed, the fair judge to himself hummed,
judging for my kingdom come.

And at the corners of his mouth,
A raise, a frown, going north yet south.
Then, as my last days of war passed away,
This seraph said: “you’re in God’s rays.”

I smiled and knew that was it,
I’m in, I’m free, an adult fit.
For through heaven I must go,
but now I know what he showed.

For at first an image appeared in the mist,
a familiar person at my midst.
For where I lay, as before I saw,
my wife, my life, weeping for all.