Life turns a
Heartbeat
Into a
Cadence
Towards oblivion...
Nobody likes
To talk about
Death
Or
Dying…
Least not
Around these
Parts.
It can come
As easily
As tripping
Over your own
Shoes.
Its absurd
To think
It only comes
With great
Age.
If the drumbeat
Of our heart
Keeps the tempo
Of our life
Then should it
Not be loved?
Not for fear
Of its silence
But of
The celebration
Of its
Performance.
No matter
The strategy
Oblivion comes
And goes
Like the ebb
Of waves
Crashing
On the shores
Of Earth,
If we deposit
Something
Or take it
With us
On our passing,
Is up to
Us.
Let not
The end
Be the reason
For holding
The heart
Back from all
It and we
Are meant to do
And feel,
For a life
Of regret
With the melodies
Of “only ifs”
Is so sad
& somber
A final
March.
Instead speak
Of the party
To be held
And how
You wanted
The performance
Of a lifetime
To be celebrated
On the edge
Of oblivion.
Whether you
Laugh
Scream
Or cry,
Will echo
In eternity.
