My Poem I Wrote. I Call It: Death & Resurrection

The light grew thin, a final, fading sigh,
A coldness claimed the breath beneath the sky.
The heartbeat stilled, the soul seemed forced to roam,
And silent hands prepared to bring him home.
A still repose, a moment sharp with dread,
The living mourned the newly numbered dead.
Then, a sudden, shocking, jagged breath,
A violent wrench that tore him back from death.
A gasp, a surge, a flicker in the gray,
The spirit's stubborn refusal to give way.
Eyes opened wide, reflecting new-born light,
Returned from silence to the dazzling bright.
The past dissolved, the future yet unknown,
Alive again, a seed from stone re-sown.