Death is a Well-Worn Curse
Each of us wears it
Some on their sleeves
Others hidden
Beneath a facade of eternity
We’re all aware of its presence
And yet there is a hush around it
As if our own suspension can keep it at bay
As if speaking its name will invite it home early
Many do not befriend death
They fear it, resent it
We all try to interpret its greater meaning
We’re terrified that it may just be
Like anything else
It just is…
No
We need to glamorize it
Decorate it
Give it meaning
Speak of it as if it is a grand rite of passage
Something to earn, a reward for a life well lived
Or a punishment for one wasted
But isn’t it all the same?
Rot, decay…
The mind shuts off
All is nothing
Existence becomes non-existence
Back to square one, ground zero
Zero, the infinite
Death is possibilities
We speculate
Are even mystified by its mystery
Allure, even
What truly lies beyond it?
We wonder…
We watch each other age
Death slowly growing upon us
And we try to wear it with grace
We say it’s just nature’s way
Nothing can last forever
But existence itself, right?
Or does that someday die too?
And then what?
For everything to just… cease
And no thing to witness the nothing
Is it then nothing witnessing itself?
Where is consciousness?
Can that too exist on its own, unattached to anything?
We all are death waiting
Death walking around
Decorated in jewelry
In cloth
Its hair and nails done
Death, sitting on a comfortable sofa
Death, opening the fridge
Creating a purpose
Creating something
Absorbing existence while it can
We dress it up in all our stories
Though each one ends the same
It’s the stories we tell along the way
The chapters
That hold our attention and give us something…
Something to connect to, to relate with
To play with
A beautiful distraction
We act like it’s so far from happening
We need not worry
We are safe
For now
A moment of respite away from the inevitable end we all face
#poetry #writing #creativewriting #metaphor #writingprompt #artstr
