Death
Death is painful more painful than giving birth,
For birth brings a cry that becomes a life,
But death brings a silence that ends a world.
What hurts the most is that you will never know the date,
No calendar will warn you,
No clock will chime for your departure.
When you're gone, you're gone
No encore, no return ticket,
Just an empty chair and a name that slowly stops being called.
The angel of death always comes by surprise,
He does not knock, he does not ask permission,
He enters like wind through an unlocked soul,
In your sleep, in your laughter, in the middle of your dreams.
And the most painful thing is,
You will not know where exactly you are going,
No map, no light to guide your trembling feet,
There will be no one to escort you either,
No hand to hold as you cross that lonely river.
No one will be able to pay you a visit,
No knock on that dark door,
No “how are you doing in there?”
Your body will be wiped from the face of people,
Your voice will fade from their ears,
Your laughter will become an echo in an old video.
You will be forgotten
Not today, not tomorrow,
But slowly, painfully, inevitably,
As grass grows over your grave and life moves on without you.
Leaving your loved ones with pain and grief,
Mothers who will never stop looking at the gate,
Children who will grow up learning to spell your name from a tombstone,
Lovers who will sleep on one side of the bed for years.
Oh, Death, you are the ultimate teacher,
You teach us that we wasted time hating,
That we postponed love,
That we thought we had tomorrow.
You teach us that every breath is a borrowed jewel,
That every hug could be the last,
That every “I love you” should never wait.
So if you must come and you must
Find me having loved well,
Having forgiven quickly,
Having lived not just existed.
For to die is not the tragedy,
The tragedy is to have never truly lived.
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