You tell me about death,
I fear it greatly, I fear.
I fear it happening to you now
For no reason, as you question -
Why the diseased rot in beds, disintegrate,
Yet exist in too slow obliteration.
Why comforts metamorphose into demons
Piloting a trip to the whale's belly.
Why parents die without a will,
Without kindness, without forgiveness.
Why friends take a flight a bus a car,
And never return to us.
Why some hurtle towards darkness,
Drown in a sea and vanish.
I fear and you wonder why
We live and etch graves in our memories.
You ask all this and I fear, I fear
For I know the shadow that walks with me.
You speak of death, and I know,
I know you know it could happen to me.