Death comes oh so slowly for some,
whispering in each struggling breath,
holding them in its grip but tightly
not letting them go to their freedom,
gasping for air, painful frowns as
medication is measured and relief
is sought, but death comes too slow.
Death is sudden. Like a fist to the gut.
No warning, no word, no inkling of it.
She was so young, he was only. God!
This is not how I imagined my day.
Like a huge rolling wave it hits and
leaves an aftermath of abject misery.
It comes. A crater in someone’s life.
Death steals hope and fruitful futures,
and tho t’is part of nature nurturing. so
it has its shadowy way; a dark valley.
Long ago a wounded hands reach out
from a cross, he shared with us the
grim journey. Now, he warmly welcomes
each weary soul with love and fills them