The Serene Demise

As the candle of my life burns out,
As every sign of my existence fades away,
and into this sombre grave,
I lay buried in a forest of gloom,
mournful cries of a dying soul,
never to be heard again,
and silence creeps into my crypt of turmoil,
my wandering soul now rests in calmness,
yet this is not ecstasy.