Too Many Unpaid Love
The air was eerie with the fairy-tale hush of late nights.
I saw him—his face devoid of emotion.
When he laughed, many teeth were missing,
save two extra-long canines.
He stood in that scary air—
a lone balloon in hot wind.
He whispered faintly, “Time’s up.”
I whimpered back, “Time up for what?”
And he said, “It’s time for you to die.”
My feet turned cold.
My bed was drenched with gallons of dread.
I was soaked to my underpants
by the fear in his eyes.
Then I remembered my debts—
the unpaid love of those who loved me.
I once had time
to repay that onerous love—
but I hesitated, believing life lasts forever.
Even just before the car veered off the road,
I dreamt in what's now my last sleep to pay back all the love I owed.
How will my soul leave for the black horizon
without repaying the love my parents gave?
Is it their unalloyed sacrifice I’ll leave unpaid,
or the care they unconditionally showed?
And my soul cannot forsake the belief
my wife and children have invested in me.
No key to heaven’s gate will be found,
though death pricked precariously at my thoughts.
But death, before you strike,
wait—let me say goodbye
to my parents, my friends, my loved ones.
Just a minute to rush my last words,
enough to write a book—
but your breath burned through my plea.
I dragged my thoughts into the realm of longevity,
though all I owned was packed in ephemerality.
My calendar showed only the past,
not a single word about the future.
I float, my body forgotten below.
The people I see are angels—
the journey to heaven is so short.
When I look down,
many well-wishers have gathered, spilling tears.
Oh, my mother’s cry was the loudest.
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