The Night

The night grows dark and cold,

My body is getting gray and old,

The wolves are howling at the moon,

I will be six feet in the ground soon,

The clouds are moving across the snow covered peak,

My body is frail and weak,

I can see my breath in the nights cold air,

I run my fingers through my silver hair,

The night grows dark and cold,

This night there is no one to hold,

The fire flickering in blackest of nights,

The priest, reading me my list rites,

In this place I am all alone,

At least I am in my bed, in my home,

The priest words run through my head,

These words bring comfort to me in this old bed,

The night is dark and cold,

The reaper gives his hand to me to hold,

"Through this anointing may the lord in his love",

I hear the angles singing to me from above,

"and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit".

It won’t be long and amongst the angles I will sit,

" May the lord who frees you from sin",

I hope in the heavens I will be young again,

" Save you and raise you up.' Rest my son,

The last breath leaves my body, as my time here is done.