Lying here, thinking back with sweetened sadness,
Recollections of all the forgotten years,
Trying to recall all the times of happiness,
As the coldness envelops and quickens my fears,
I cannot help but ponder upon the truisms of strife,
And how ‘oh so quickly’, we are soon at the decline,
The end of the edge of the roadway of life,
And struggling with low banks of the silent forgotten mind,
Strange how for nine months we are encased within the womb,
Yet upon the day of our awakened creation, our ‘birth’,
From this point onwards we are heading towards yet another tomb,
And l find this, humorous, yet again l can see no true mirth,
Not being a religious man or holding strong to any faith,
Who is here to answer any final questions l might wish to ask?
‘God? I see no higher order here, already a betray…
Yet l lay here dying awaiting the arrival of the reapers’ grasp!
For after life there comes death, this cannot be denied,
Long has it been known and understood this to be the way,
And as far as my memories travel back, l know this to not be lies,
From today my tomorrows will be my yesterday,
They tell us not, of what to expect in our closing and final hours,
Yet we are to believe religiously in some mighty deity,
A being much loved and worthy and holding angelic powers?
That we shall be engulfed within a light of immense beauty!
Know not do l of all of that, just that my life in which l did so endure,
Is ending, and that no longer am l to be a living being,
And how l succumbed to it as yet another victim of no cure,
I know this to be a fact, gone are my days of ageing!
My body oh so feeble and weak, shall be the first to fade away,
And yet do they think more than once about my mind?
How it is still wide-awake and thinking back on my lost yesterdays?
Nay, ‘tis assumed that it is just my end of time!
Who would imagine unless they were here with me now this minute,
As l struggle and air comes to me in shortened breaths,
Remembering with softly fading fondness my life in snippet,
And coming to understand that we experience not one but two deaths!
I have lived in the dust of yesterday,
And remember do l well the poppies of tomorrow,
When life before this time was not full of decay,
Nor was l surrounded by all the grief and sorrow,
As l slowly depart from this world and end up who knows where,
Can l reside in the comfort of finally understanding the price,
Of knowledge in which l am now unable to share,
That we live one life but end up dying twice!
© Rory Matier 2012