taking out one day out of your life,
is dying that day out,
and dying is such sweet release,
that none should do without;
if only it was not such big a step,
and if there was no pain,
more folks would line up for that threshhold,
again and again.
but mostly it comes not in welcome robes,
and in inopportune times,
dying stalls the breath, opens the mind
to the divine,
whether believer or not, both penitent
and the staunchest atheist find pause,
to reexamine at that final door,
that eternal Cause,
but melancholy shrouds me now,
and behind this screen of pain,
i only beg surcease, and that relief
that i can gain
beyond that final tablature,
past that final trumpeter,
i cast aside all fear for this event
that i cannot deter.
it’s been a journey, wading in salt waters
with cut and bleeding feet,
mayhap the sole release that i will find
is to accept defeat
before that great devourer,
inexorable, sublime,
that monster, final leveler,
that they call Time.
and i can see the portal now,
from here, the light beckons,
but i look back to find someone,
but she is gone;
instead a calm enfolds me,
drawing me slowly near,
here is a place where i can finally rest,
sans tears, sans fear.
and so i take this day out of my life,
i lay it side by side
among the myriad other days that i have shucked
in youthful pride,
and now, there’s just a few more left,
i strip them carefully,
in pain, and in regret, and yet in peace,
i lay them lovingly
upon the white sands of this final beach,
this final strand of shore,
and turn my back forever from this world,
and return no more.


2 thoughts on “dying

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