03-09-2012, 10:57 AM
Will you be my home,
so that I'm not alone,
when my time comes to die?
I’ll have no family by my side,
to offer comfort and hold my hand.
My parents have long been in their graves;
neither have I siblings alive to ask for aid.
My wife went on long before,
and children I once had are now no more.
When I stand at the entrance of death’s door,
will you succor me; be my last refuge,
the vultures then to disabuse,
as I lie helpless in my bed,
keep them from picking at my head?
I will give you all I own,
for this simply act alone:
let me lie among familiar things,
for the comfort that it brings,
and be my home?
©2012 –Erthona
Note:
From a series of poems on death and dying, along with "The Final Hour".
so that I'm not alone,
when my time comes to die?
I’ll have no family by my side,
to offer comfort and hold my hand.
My parents have long been in their graves;
neither have I siblings alive to ask for aid.
My wife went on long before,
and children I once had are now no more.
When I stand at the entrance of death’s door,
will you succor me; be my last refuge,
the vultures then to disabuse,
as I lie helpless in my bed,
keep them from picking at my head?
I will give you all I own,
for this simply act alone:
let me lie among familiar things,
for the comfort that it brings,
and be my home?
©2012 –Erthona
Note:
From a series of poems on death and dying, along with "The Final Hour".
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.