Death Poem by Gilbert Alasa

Questions about Death

Where do we all go when we die?
Or how do we bind our hasty time
Whose wings fly faster than our feet?
Only to spark a scary scream

What would become of kin, of haters’ lots?
In a world whose rhythm never stops
What happened, I ask,
To feet once adorned with clanging sandals?

To lords who caused the earth to still
Whose treasure could kiss heaven’s peak?
Would we all see smiles of heavenly angels?
Or the angst in Devil’s quizzical glare

Shall we be ushered into unruffled tents
Bound about by a dancing frosty forest?
Or be shoved into galling bowels of celestial pan?
Like the boiling planes of warring Iraq?

Shall we find a spot to kick it, for once?
To unwind from life’s endless chores
Or become morons, menacing robots
I ‘d ask these questions about death, once more