With My Last Breath Poem by Lora Colon

Who has not pondered their last hour
When Death points to our name on his scroll?
As we slowly wilt like summer's last flower,
What concerns will beleaguer the soul?

Who will be waiting to guide me
Down the hallway, just beyond that door
That allows passage to Eternity?
On gilded wings, will my spirit soar?

What questions will be permitted?
Will my heart discover what it seeks?
Will every fault and error committed
Flash before my eyes like lightning streaks?

Will death be unencumbered sleep,
Final escape from the bonds of Earth?
Or will we recall things that made us weep,
And all the joys that gave life its worth?

Will the flowers of love still bloom?
Though I've never carried the bouquet,
Might I be granted one blossom's perfume,
Or will denial once again hold sway?

Should I be granted one query,
With much angst I must inquire of Death:
This heart that expired alone and weary,
Will it find its peace with my last breath?

But should fragments of life still course
Through this clay, allowing pain to seep,
Then I must implore of the Divine Source:
End this game! grant me eternal sleep