Dust settles swiftly on dying days,
While clocks tick on all time stands still.
Dreams fly free as spirits dance,
As still hearts beat you take the chance.
To live again in light of sun,
In dark of day and moonlit night.
Burden smothers living breath,
Freedom in the arms of death.
R.M Roberts ©2009
Tales From Behind A Cushion 
I like the way you’ve made a ‘dark’ subject of death so light and airy. Perhaps you’re not talking about physical death here but more the end of a chapter in something major and a moving on to new pastures.
Whichever it is, I like it 🙂