A jumbled mass of possessions, a vast rippled sky snatched away when the curtains are drawn, the burning radiance of cheers peeking through the folds from the distant horizon. Meadowlarks twirling, their wayward melody saturating the seclusion, raiding the passion for stillness. The sublime yearning to pause for the breeze, for the budding, for the ebbing. This is my world, my piece of the pie, an intimate sigh in the blink of an eye. The allotment of a life shrouded in the vapor of a why.
By and by, rocking to each lullaby, the cradle huddles a passerby. Yet again, a baby blossoms into a prodigy with the hopes of a promising destiny. To every dismay, the cycle of youth concludes, leaving behind a ravaged body. It is only then, just around the bend, the end looms savagely.
The child who sobbed for a toy now crawls in the tangled web of this lie. The pretension of a life, a feeble effort to seek the answer to a why. A heart beats to the rhythm of a cosmic lament then ceases its dance in the midst of this act. The denouement of a plot, gibing at fuddled faces pondering the ultimate why.
When I die, there will be no wake, no heads of states, no honor guards, no gun salutes in the procession chasing the hearse. No wailing, no tear drops rolling. Only the elimination of another corpse. Will you journey with me to divulge the end?
Body odor fills the air. The last ceremonial wash is near. On wrinkled sheets, urine seeps. The pulse weakens; saliva trickles. One hand shakes; the other prays. A last stare craves.
There is no bright light at the end of a tunnel. There is no flight on the wings of an angel to end my travel. No monsters have appeared to snatch my soul. There is no evil greeting me at the gates of hell. Neither a heaven to curtail the devil. The apparent absence of all delusions. This is the end when it is near.
Sipping the bitter ale under the darkened veil, toast the baby and salute the frail. In your gloomy trail, release this heavenly lie with a slow sigh: the revelation to grasp the why.
The last testament is here. My doom is near…
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