When Faced With the Paradox of Death
Everyone sooner or later
must face that horrific moment
when vision slowly dims
and feebleness affects senses.
When faced with the paradox of death...
what will be your last plea?
Live a day longer, even hours...
or save someone who barely hangs on life?
I see myself on the dying bed
as a ghost that nobody sees,
staring at the wooden crucifix
and comfort Christ with eyes
still opened while his wounds bleed:
his agony is excruciating,
not compared to human suffering.
This unexpcted dilemma
makes one meditate
with the little strenght left:
how to be able to conquer
the horrifying feeling
and departing without the guilt
of having been self-centered?
One can gleam and fade as stars
towards sunrise glanced down by
by a sad moon in a crimson sky
and reminisce for a brief time
the glory that was allowing
self-delusion to acknowledge
that invincibility is not immortality.
Isn't generosity the only choice left
when we lie dying tormented by despair
and not be able to hear those
desperate voices that asks us to give
them life and allow us to live on
through them? Should their wish
be denied or let them live?
Written on 9/27/2017
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2017
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