Standing on the edge of time

on the shore of an island of despair,

Waves of melancholy wash away

the feeling of not knowing where I’m going.

I can hear the sound of stormy waves

crashing on a distant shore,

and my feet are wet and warm.

 

Living close with a daily dose of dying

Is destructive to my sense of being

And waiting for the inevitable sense

of not being is a worrisome thing,

but hurrying to end my rush to dust

is definitely much worse.

I guess I’ll just live and let die.

 

How brightly shone the sun

on the day of my demise.

Ablaze with all the beauty of its birth,

Its brightness making clear the path, the way

I couldn’t find in the darkness of my mind and soul.

Brighter yet than the relief of my family,

Brighter still than the burning ambitions

of a spent and misspent youth,

Brighter than the brilliant brains of those

Relieved at my release from the torment

of travel to another dimension.

Grateful for the sun that shines and falls like

the gentle rain of mercy on the just and unjust alike.

It’s the first day of forever, and I’m still here.