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…
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