Christopher Michael, gay, gay poetry

Who Will I Be

Why Fear Death
I don’t fear death, why fear that which must come
inevitable, frightening I don’t know
I fear the pain, being trapped between here and there
that comes with the journey crossing over
I do not know what death looks like, for me
I’ve seen it first hand, passing from her last breath
to stop, gone, no longer
how could I know how death will feel
sleep, perhaps the closest I come to finding
where I go in sleep, where I traverse
if I wake, when I wake, then death has not taken
me crost the River Styx
if I do not, I waken to another day or morning
I cling tenaciously to this life, though my body
dances away with the fervor
mind clouds, eyes dim, filled with fragility
to cheat death at its own game
defying what must eventually upon me
i do not fear the end, to death, to part, to leave
behind something i don’t comprehend in life
but for the moment, in a morning
waken to face another day, death postponed
his grim reapership sent packing
the burden of 70 years lifted
there’s nothing to do but life this day
and wonder each night
will I know I am dead?


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