Don’t Flirt with Death

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Once upon a time, I dreamed of death

and to wake was a nightmare to endure.

In my mind death seemed to whisper peace,

in life my mountains seemed insurmountable.

The demons in my mind whispered endlessly

and the moles built massive creations.

Though I forgave myself the urge to end it all

and tunneled through the mountains,

I have always had a love affair with death

in the same way one would view a gateway.

Until today, when I hugged a grieving mother.

Death is no glorious release or peaceful slumber.

It is a ravenous beast, and a thief and robber.

I look back to my flirtations and am ashamed.

To think that the ache of not being understood

or the loneliness of a broken heart equal

to the sacrifice that death requires as toll.

A mother’s tear, more painful that heartbreak

and her loss an immeasurable loneliness

that no lonely moment could hope to match.

Her face held firm in an attempt to be strong

only confirming the gaping hole in her heart.

Today death became a reality, for me.

For anyone else flirting with death

think of your loved ones before you dive.

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2 thoughts on “Don’t Flirt with Death

  1. My, are these words to mind. Sometimes I debate which is more trouble–putting me to rest or fighting one day more? I’m still here though. I will be until I’m called home. It seems to be a curse sometimes, the hope and strength that are the skeletons to the body of my life. I suppose it knows more than I not to flirt with death.

    The Scribbler

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