Fear of Death

Whilst we wait, are we anxious or sedate,
if the matter be say, of life and death?
Do we yet, to the bliss current gyrate
even as doom approaches us in stealth
or is slow and easy, our tranquil breath?
If we pause, before giving an answer,
bondage to delusion, yet to sever,
it may well be a time for reflection,
for desires grow within us like cancer,
exhumed in stillness of meditation.

28-February-2021
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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