On Conquering Death (Sometime in Future)

'I declare, I have conquered death.

I shall die no more but, rise to tell the tale.

I reject love and I reject pain. I win.'

At my speech, death laughed and opened its arms.

And I dropped wordlessly into its embrace.

Death came not a moment too soon; But, I was unprepared,

Soaking in the standing ovation at my declaration.

I thought I had time, I ruled my heart, my head.

As the ship that believes the sea its mistress.

I too sunk without a trace.

As darkness turned to light;

I saw hands. A million claws.

Dirty, grimy, seedy fingers reaching for me, I shivered.

Fire snapped and I reached out to warm my hands. 

Death kissed my forehead and said, "come, it will be fun."

My hands were soon joined with the others.

We were just hands, holding on for sanity.

Hoping, praying and dying a little everyday.

Clutching the beads, waiting, watching, looking out for death.

Death came often and held our hands checking them for roughness.

One day, death held my hands for a while;

I shivered, feeling suddenly, my body beyond my hands. 

Was I alive? Death did look worried. Had it lost a victim?

I felt nothing, no elation, no emotion, no hunger or joy.

Was this a miracle? Had I had finally died to conquer death?