When shadows lengthen and the day grows dim,
The whispers of the night begin to sing,
Of death, the final sleep, so cold and grim,
Yet peace it brings, a gentle, soothing thing.
Beneath the stars, where souls find their repose,
The weary hearts that life has left behind,
In stillness deep, where dreams no longer pose,
A quiet realm where solace they will find.
The sonnet’s verse, in Shakespeare’s timeless hand,
Reflects the dance of life and death’s embrace,
With every line, a step in that grand strand,
That weaves our fate within its gentle grace.
So fear not death, for it is but a part,
Of nature’s course, a journey to the night,
Where we return, a cycle from the start,
And find in darkness, an eternal light.