In the quiet of the fading light,
Where shadows softly blend with dusk,
She pens her thoughts with gentle might,
In words that linger, never hushed.

The silent steps of Death she knew,
A solemn friend, not feared nor shunned,
In whispered verses, bold and true,
Her soul to endless journeys spun.

The carriage waits, a spectral ride,
To realms unknown, beyond the veil,
Yet in her lines, Death sits beside,
A muse of life, where dreams prevail.

In every breath, a fleeting grace,
A dance with Death, serene, profound,
Through Emily’s words, we find our place,
In tender echoes, we are bound.