The Crossing

In a land between the living and dead
Your soul crosses the river of forgetting
In a land with colors of regret and beauty
Your steps bring you to a flowing river
Of cold amber and warm black

When you close your eyes here,
You will never open the same ones again
It is an opportunity for the fortunate
A testament to the unlucky

Your foot leaves the banks of the river,
Teeter away from memories of a frozen flame
Leave everything behind you
When you step onto the other side
A new candle is lit, everything is erased
But it is a blank page—the brush is luck and the hand is you
The ink is fate

Above this abyss of gold and darkness
The warmth seeps out your body
Somewhere far away, your candle flares
And you open your eyes once again