Mulling

Death is such a bland and awful topic for discussion recently. No one knows what waits for us after this life and many fear that there is nothing else. I always like to indulge in the gothic horror of the possibility that we don’t leave. That we stay, and transform. Into beast or man, or something in between, I’ve loved the theme of life after death. As I do with anything I love, I write about it. This page holds a directory to some of the stories dealing with the afterlife. Most of these will send you to their own pages but it’s just a more organized way of what has been written.

PAGE TAGS #MullingOverDeath #Mulling #Transformation

Twelve Past Twilight

Carlisle is Lying (Fanfiction)

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

John Donne

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