Death, part four.

IV. One day

The sky has darkened.
Death is coming.
The day that should not be,
one more day was left
and laughs before us,
heavy clouds with no rain
following me.
Winter comes,
tomorrow
and at last.
Time will pass,
and this year will rest.
The tomb will stay closed
for three days
and I'll wait by the hearth.
Winds howl,
the vortex makes me weaker,
I'm on my knees
while I watch the wreaths
and all humans around.
I let out every breath.
As serenity comes
I wait for the last day.
I foresee its dawn,
and the fight of tomorrow.