He stood over me silently; I couldn?t see his eyes because the tree above us blocked the moonlight from his face, but I knew they were closed. The dew on the grass shone more intensely with each precious passing second and I felt a coldness creeping up my right side. The entire left half of my body was warm, marinated in the blood from it?s sister side. I wanted to cough but my throat was too tight, nothing could escape, and even if it could I would have died from the slightest heave.
He stood over me silently, the man who had first told me how to blow saliva bubbles with my mouth and then how to give a woman proper pleasure. He was a man at both times; he was always a man to me, whether he was twelve or twenty-one. I heard music, it seemed to emanate from him, his body aureate with the moonlight; his face still deeply shadowed. The tune rose and fell slowly, as his gilded chest kept a calm tempo. The whole piece had a flat tone to it and it made my pain slightly duller with each heartbeat. A raven circled overhead, slowly descending.
He stood over me silently and a single silver tear fell onto my left hand; the man who had held my hand, fearless of the name homosexuality, my broken leg seemingly disastrous. My mouth contorted in a grimace, and I thought vainly about how foolish I looked. I felt a whimper escape my throat and the pain wrenched at my brain. My face was stained and I thought there must be a huge puddle around me. The numbness crawled over to my left side slowly, leaving behind a frigid path of dead nerves.
He stood over me silently, the man who had held me moments before as I gasped for breath and coughed up blood. My eyes rolled back into my head and I wondered if I should pray. He fell on his knees and grabbed my hand. My ears heard him begging me to stay, not to leave him here alone; the man who I had thought I would never see in a lower position than me. The sound was muffled and distant and I felt sorry for his loneliness. He was indeed in a lower position than I was; I was going to die with somebody I loved. The raven landed beside our linked hands and watched his silver tears mix with my blood. I heard a wolf howl in the distance and I felt repulsed by the thought of the sun. I must leave now; -Farewell. An axe fell and twilight came to a slow, severe ending.


So basically I used a ton of poetic symbols for death just because it's fun.
doing a full crit later when im actually awake and not half asleep, but mind checking out mine? its the first link in my sig if you can