Understood

I grow cold all over,
The heat slowly leaching from my flesh.
My heart slows and my eyes blacken-
Death is cradling me in her arms.

"There is no harm in this,"
She whispers, so calm, so sweet,
In my ear.
"You could have changed the world,"
She murmurs, ready to tear me from my life before my time,
Jealous of who I might have been.

I almost fight her grasp-
But I am growing cold all over,
The heat and life of my eld no longer holding my muscles supple.
But, from that,
I know she is strong-
I wrote of her so long that she became a goddess.

I give in,
Give up.
Dematorna may have me,
May toss me into her jealous hell.
I wrote her after me,
To be the perfect demon-human-angel-goddess.
Why resist?
Better to die to what I know than grasp at something I don't.

But "No."
The world of us, Death and I, is cut open by that one word.
A hand reaches through the slit and entwines in mine.
I know these fingers-
How often have they held me close,
Traced and healed hidden scars?

"Do not be caught by your own words-
They can be changed at anytime.
Do not be lost to your own creation-
The Death that lives in your mind.
I'll allay your fears if I can,
But I can only do so much.
You must realize just what is real-
Our love, our families, the hard-bound book graced by your name,
Sitting on the shelf.
We are the only ones that are real here-
Don't do this to yourself."

And slowly my flesh begins to warm,
And tears begin to snake.
Dematorna slides away,
Surreal as who she represents.
That little world fades away,
My heart again is beating.
All my worlds are made of words-
But he is made of understanding.