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.