A Final Note
GFJones 2009
I am not sure of when I died
Or how
Or why
Or if anyone cried
Yet I remain
Feeling hollow inside
No depths of depression
Nor heights of great pride
A long decrescendo was the term of my death
Brought down to a whisper
On the faintest of breath
Now trapped among living
Seeing none are bereft
Not even a shadow enduring is left
The trek through this life was deaf and unseeing
No season or flavor
Or reason for being
All focus inward
Most self-deceiving
A fool’s written scripts
A lifetime of grieving
This shadow play, this thin veiled life
Brought little joy
Amid plenty of strife
Now to cease this body
By sharp edge of knife
And pay the piper
As he blows on his fife
Yet this ending
This whimper
This quiet wail for love
Solves nothing
Speaks muted
To the silence above
Pain and hard lessons
Are hand and glove
Yet diminish in power
When heart warms to love
No need of I for the blades sorry rent
In ending this whimper
This loveless lament
These pain-sown seeds
Of wisdoms content
Spawn fruit of hope
New heart’s intent
Stepping not out into the blackness of night
For much too soon
Life will take its flight
Forgiveness and love
Where begins the fight
Begin as an end
Blind heart given sight
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