When He Comes For You Poem by metamorphhh (aka jim crawford)

And when he comes for you how shall I sleep,
Knowing as I do that time unbinds tomorrow from today?
And when he comes for you, when you slip off
Into the folds of threadbare remembrances and trite solace,
What happens to the lasting thing, the soil
Of purpose from which our impassive souls find content in dreams.
He will come for you, and I shall stand firm,
But my stolidity will serve no one. For the ground shall move,
Then part, and the intervening chasm
Will mock me with forgetfulness, and I shall learn to wait, mute,
A witness to the world's unraveling
As the universe dries up and becomes husk to a dead seed.
And when he comes for you, you will see him
For what he is, and recognize that you're the fortunate one.
And you'll embrace him, and I will appear
as a vapor to your new eyes, just before they coalesce
With your new vision. In your passing, it
will be I who passes away. Your expansion will proclaim
my diminishment, as I race starlight
In my escape for the boundaries and beyond. There, one of
Us will blink, and it will be done. Nothing
Will remain to mark our place or our time, when he comes for you.