Oh, a profound subject indeed is Death!
It's nagging mystery absorbs the mind.
What will it be like when the time is set-
Will the last breath feel so cruel or kind?
Will the hearing slowly fade, be so numbed?
Lips be speechless as the nerves lose their sense?
Dried be the throat as the body succumbs
To its final passage into eternal absence?
Can there be a way to bargain more time?
A negotiation that perhaps sway the fate,
Yet the sureness of its coming's like a crime-
Death never cancels dates, is never late.
All Rights Reserved ~~~Cynthia Buhain-Baello-04.21.14
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tho death may take my feet of clay, tomorrow I'll be in Heaven to play!