Death 

Death feels so distant

Yet it lurks nearby.

It observes your doing,

The things you do to others,

More importantly to yourself.

It grins with your sins

And smiles softly at the benevolence 

Of your heart.

It sleeps with its eyes open.

Does it have two eyes like us humans?

Does it feel?

Will it feel the pain you have 

When it takes your soul?

Will you even be in pain

Or will you die peacefully?

Will you be surrounded with loved ones

Or will you be alone, unnoticed?

Will you see its form before you leave?

Will it reveal itself

Or will it be wearing a black coat 

As the stories are told?

Will it show you the choices 

You have willingly led?

Will it comfort you

Before sending you away?

Will it be a judge

For your sins?

Will it be a friend 

For taking you from a chronic pain

Or an enemy 

For taking you from a gay life?

You don’t know, do you?

You can’t ask Death 

Even though it’s closer than you think it is.

In fact, Death would probably

Be the one with the questions.

Asking you what you have done 

What you have given

Taken

Accomplished.

The whats and the whys. 

Will you be able to answer then?

Are you even prepared?

Because I know…

I am definitely not.

Listen

Come sit with me
Share my space
Listen to my thoughts
As they escape my eyes
Or can you not read them?
It’s okay,
There are different ways
You can hear me
Without words being said.
Listen to me breathe
In.. Out.. And in again
Listen to the pace.. Rushed
Listen to the blinks of my eyes
Eyelids fluttering..
Now listen to the calmness
As I close my eyes shut
And relax..
Did you hear that?
My heart is slowing down now
Royal beats.
What’s this?
Your hand on my chest?
You can share my space
But not my body.
Stop it
Stop thumping on my chest
I can’t hear myself anymore
Listen to me!
Listen to.. My heartbeats?
There was none..
Wasn’t there..?
It wasn’t calmness you heard
It was.. It was the end
You did listen.
You finally listened
Till there was nothing to be heard.

Soul..

She could almost swear it was clear as glass how his soul protested as it left his body.
Was it expressing pain and agony for being attached to this simple body?
Was it being punished?
She did not know.
But she did know this much..
That it was the soul that felt.. Pain or happiness.
The soul that hosted this body.
The soul was what you referred to.. As dead or alive.
The body is what you referred to as ‘it‘, not the soul.
The soul is the master.
The body is the companion.
There is no living body without a soul.