Last Moments Poem by Daniel Brick

It is a beautiful poem on death having touching expression and nice collocation. Thank u dear sir for sharing this poem.

Ah, Daniel, with the mention of fate you summon for me the mysteries of free will and predestination. And you bring to mind something I read in Rumi recently where he asserts that mystics are adept at laziness—relating to your encouragement to let go. To strain against the confines of the physical, including the shells of our bodies, seems to me a teaching part of our condition. Have you read my poem Caged Beasts? Be well, my friend. -Glen

The final surrender to fate...so movingly rendered. A great philosophical write on the flimsy nature of our life. How we fret n fume over useless things while the fate pulls our strings all along. But man's triumph is in accepting n welcoming whatever comes along. A work of great depth n finesse. As a fatalist, i agree with every word but rather than falling into Hardy's doomed fatalism, you rise so triumphantly and welcome the final step as the beginning of a hope. A big 10.

Love your poem, Daniel! It contains one of the FAQ about human life everybody wants to get the answer. Or almost everybody. I think maybe it's because no one knows what is fate in general and what is his own fate. For example I don't know where these words fighting your fate come from. They come into our mind and our life, but what is the reason to believe that circumstances we're fighting against relate to our fate or it's just somebody's prejudices and old stereotypes.

The line of debris begins with a broken ladder. Its twenty-two rungs lie scattered on the ground it was meant to surmount. But there never was the possibility of escape, so even the ladder whole was useless. - - - - - The ladder whole was useless at last.No one can escape death and all fame or fortune are of no use at the last moment.Just love the philosophical depth of the poem.

The last minutes of life and the only thing we human can do...is let go. The instant flash of memory and the rest is inescapable. I like how you opened this poem with the ladders and the near rhyme of words...kind of like our understanding of death....we kind of get it, but not really....it's close, but not quite perfect (our understanding) .