Thoughts on the last days of a good man and close friend whose life ended in suffering because of a degenerative disease

As I stepped on the downward stair

I reached for a railing that wasn't there.

Precarious, precarious!

But that was not the scariest.

As I got to the bottom floor

I opened what was not a door

into a space of dark and gloom

that wasn't anything like a room.

Disorient, disorient!

I wonder where my prayers went.

It's dark and silent, this I know;

but silent dark may be friend or foe.

 

 

I regretted I regretted

But that did not change my featherness.

If I'm blowed and blown away

I may end up in such as this.

The breath I'm on has brought me here

To lose perhaps what I hold dear.

No turning back from doom or glory;

mine only to live out the story.

Gone my faith. I'm left with trust

until I give back spirit and dust.

If I could love more than could God

I would myself become a god.

No goddess I, I know that's true.

I trust to someday meet with You.

 

 Death is a clap.

Are there echoes?

I have heard in the night

how the sound goes

into the dark unknown

fading but on it goes

into the blur unseen

as if it has always been

as if I will meet it again

and know it an old good friend.

 

I don't want to join the world

I want to keep apart

So I stay under my blanket listening to my beating heart

Wishing I could sleep

Until the day ends

But my brain starts to think so I get up in self defence

There's no hiding from

And there is no escape

Whatever will get dished out that is what you have to take

So I will face the day

That is confronting me

Because it is, and I am, though I don't know how to be