My Poetry. My time has come.

He crossed the final path he longed to take,
and instantly, he was able to feel anew.
A profound sense of comfort and endless love surrounded him,
leaving no trace of the lonely, aching blue.

The most he had hoped for was simple happiness;
the least, a dull ache from remembering his past.
But surprisingly, he felt no trace of pain at all,
only the quiet, certain hope that this would finally last.

He watched the clouds, like silken white vessels,
floating softly on a cushion of purest air.
The light was so invitingly, beautifully sweet,
rich and perfect as a ripened pear.
Gently dropped down, he looked around with wonder;
everything was placed as his heart had dreamed.
Vibrant, coloured flowers were blooming everywhere,
and his face, now radiant, truly beamed.

This is paradise found, life just truly beginning,
as gentle, warm flashbacks filled his relieved mind.
Every picture of temptation and sorrow has vanished,
and the people surrounding him are wholly kind.
There is no dark place for hatred, cruelty, or war;
everything is rose-coloured, perfectly clear.
Children are laughing and playing everywhere,
and no one is burdened by any form of fear.

Nightingales are singing in a melodic, perfect tune,
Trees are whispering secrets lightly in the gentle breeze.
No animal is caged; all creatures are running free,
invited to simply exist as they desire or please.
Waking up with a profound smile on his rested face,
each new day is delivered bright with sunshine.
This place, which he now proudly calls his eternal home,
is pure happiness and complete love, and finally, it is his.