The Last Lover

I always knew I wasn’t meant for this world.

The spark of a soul drifted into my warm body,
Almost as if by mistake.
Like a traveller, lost, seeking shelter.

As the years went by, the spark shone and shimmered,
Lighting up my body from within,
Until, it was almost equally radiant and bedazzling.

It is time for the once weary traveller to move on.
My body will waste away,
Too beautiful to survive alone in this world.

Now is when I hope that a better place exists –
So rather than burn out, my soul will cross borders,
Defying those whose imagination was lacking.

And so, weak and increasingly frail,
I try not to let my heart ache with sorrow,
As I await my final lover, Death.

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