I am death.
My time has come.
I will finally lay down my scythe and retire.
I am the white rose.
I am the Virgin.
My love is eternal.
My love is Grace.
I am the thornless crown.
My white roses wreathe the Savior’s head in Heaven.
I am Gabriel’s horn.
I sound for all to hear:
I call the saint and the sinner.
I call the pope and the prodigal.
I call the king and the conquered.
I call All.
Even myself.
For when all souls are safe inside my sanctuary,
I myself will lock the door and light the pyre.
For I am the phoenix.
I must offer myself as a burnt sacrifice.
The timbers of my rafters are cedarwood.
I am an offering of incense.
In my immolation is immortality.
In my fall I will rise.
In my end is a new beginning.
In my release and recreation is redemption for all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem