Orochi C. Joshua Poet Rhyme

When Death Becomes an Answer

They say every problem
has an answer somewhere,
a road through the darkness,
a breath in the despair.

They say every mountain
has a path to the plain,
every wound has its healing,
every sorrow its rain.

But life is a riddle
that mocks what we know;
some questions have answers
that time will not show.

Some battles are fought
with courage and pain,
yet morning refuses
to follow the rain.

We search for a doorway,
we pray for a key,
we wrestle with shadows
we desperately flee.

We bargain with sorrow,
we reason with fate,
we plead with tomorrow,
we challenge the wait.

Yet sometimes the answer
is not what we seek;
it hides in the silence
of the strong and the weak.

For the river finds rest
when it reaches the sea;
the leaf finds its freedom
when it falls from the tree.

The candle finds purpose
while giving its light,
then solves its own burning
by surrendering night.

And death—yes, death—
that we fear and deny,
sometimes closes the question
that life couldn't untie.

But do not mistake me:
death is no friend.
It takes without warning,
and refuses to mend.

It leaves empty chairs,
it leaves tears in the rain,
it leaves those who loved us
to wrestle with pain.

So while there is breath,
let us struggle and strive;
let us fight for tomorrow,
let us choose to survive.

For death may be waiting
at the end of the road,
but life is the journey,
the burden, the load.

Every problem may carry
a solution unseen;
every night has a morning,
however dark it has been.

Sometimes the answer
is courage to stay.
Sometimes it is leaving
and choosing a new way.

Sometimes it is patience,
sometimes letting go;
sometimes we find wisdom
in what we don't know.

And when life's final curtain
descends without sound,
perhaps death is the answer
where no answer was found.

But until that last moment,
until breath has an end,
let life be the question
we refuse to suspend.

For death ends the journey,
but life is the art—
the place where we struggle,
the place where we start.

So if every problem
must somehow be solved,
remember: the answer
may not be what we thought.

For some storms teach sailing,
some wounds teach the soul—
and sometimes death closes
what life could not control.

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