The Veil of Death
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Buffed out with time's fine emery;
Alzheimer's stole your memory.
And you sit in your chair and gaze;
lost in a perpetual haze.
Though not in pain, you don't look well;
you are little more than a shell.
And when I touch you, you pull back;
as if fending off an attack.
How horrible to be confined;
essentially trapped in one's mind.
And though I wish it was not so,
love only adds to my sorrow.
Death is something we will work through;
I will never abandon you.
And when you breathe your final breath,
smile at me through the veil of death.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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