O death one rocked Anne Boleyn to sleep
But who would sooth my brow once it comes to me?
Death’s cold hands reached out beseechingly;
A smile crept on my lips as my fingers reached out to touch his.
My breath escaping me, the sooner he comes.
Relief arrives like a bright glow of light, as fear ebbs away
Death smiles and he takes my breath away.
Carrying me over sundry pastures and heavenly skies.
No fear is visible, just divine peace.