Dying

Shhh shhh shhh
its very still,
still, still, still,
that beat clings onto my breath,
but it is very still,
mother weaps as her child wonders deep into the abyss of hell,
while God seems to remain still,
its so dark,
nowhere is there too leave,
nowhere to run,
look around,
everything is still,
depression is the only entity that moves,
and turns into a garden of war when thoughts of death collide with the passion of vision,
satan’s army is death, 
and looks to have conquered,
because God seems still.