Dear Death

Stop peeping through my window. I am not, herein, on any snooze show. You frighten me with pin-pierce-like aches. In my dreams, you send snakes. I am frightened of my irreversibility. Isn't evil's mischievous causality? I sleep and wake with thanatophobia. Knell is heard in my ears, not Gloria. The world seems strange to me. My well-wishers say I'll be soon free. Is freedom regressing within myself? Do I need, anymore, jewels on my shelf? I remain shocked, often, and numb. Unconsciously, I calculate my existential sum. Anguish and anger brew in me. I see void, vacuum, and absurdity. Where has my creed gone? Why is there dryness in the marrow of my bone? I bear everything, whether great or small. Trusting in an eternal life towards which I crawl…