The Chronicle of Death

(For the man who spent his life on me with no return – my Father)

…And the chronicle of death unfurls
As we wonder is destiny the hand
Curving the path ahead of us;
Is it the choices we would make along?
Where do we go, there is no light;
Should we succumb to darkness perpetual?
Are we free to make choices all alone?
Can those nightmares from the past
Be left behind forever, if we run?
But the questions keep echoing themselves
Like the hollow room of an empty life.
Still there is no light while time’s running out;
There is something in my head
Growing all the time, bit by tiny bit.
There is a throbbing too, within
And the pain becoming a daily treat.
The void’s spreading from cell to cell
And soon like all the living things
I too must die but sooner yet I know
These eyes will go blind and then no voices
Would haunt me down in the dreams when I sleep.
Yet I wonder how far sleep is from death,
How far she dwells from his abode;
O God, let there be light, once and for all!

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