Instead (Poetry)

I do not rage
as small regrets grow faint
I have no thought of angel
nor of saint

I do not dream
of anyone who waits
beside those legendary
Pearly Gates

I do not pray
requesting a reprieve
I just accept it’s time
for me to leave

I do not cling
to that which cannot last
the twilight dies and day
is almost past

I do not cry
or fear the press of night
while shadows crowd and hide
the world from sight

Instead
                my ghost ship drifts
                towards true dark
                its compass set for home —
                that port unmarked