There is no passion to be found in playing small – in settling for a life that is less then the one you are capable of living.
like an assassin, will you creep up on me in stealth?
when my lungs have run out of breath. Oh death! Oh death!
when the black wires on my head have turned to grey
and my bones have not the strength to face the day.
will you come and sweep me off my feet, like a broom?
into the glad gloom of an everlasting doom.
or will you simply strike me down like the lightning?
even before my adult years reach an ending.
Oh death! Oh death! i know the vas of my body
will decay with time. but please let it not be today.
Oh death! Oh death! whatever shall happen to my mind?
when my warm and pulsing body it fails to find.
will it wander around, a lost child in distress?
looking for the guidance of one who’s a compass
to point north in the direction of salvation.
or will it find a homey accommodation?
within the grand walls of the universal mind
that controls everything from the blowing wind
to the growing greenery that sprouts from the earth.
do not let my mind wander around. Oh death! Oh death!
when my psyche has reunited with the universal mind
and the vessel of my body is in the ground.
will the human essence of my being remain whole?
Oh death! Oh death! will the cradle of my life, my soul
be born again into another lifetime?
or will it too, suffer the effects of an eternal death?
© The Poets Peace 2019 – Lazarus Shatipamba