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Life and Death
August 23, 2019
Death has a strange sense of humor
It doesn't like to sit around and wait
It creeps up on you from the sewers
And whisks you away to your fate.
I sometimes wonder where you've gone off to
I hope God led you to your bliss
Your time was already past due
But still, you will be missed.
I can't look back and say you were normal,
But I can say you were quite strange
Always sensible, smart and formal
But now, everything has changed.
You never truly feared Death's dark angel
Never feared the eerie grave
Always loyal, pious and faithful
Took much less than you gave.
It will be years before I see you again
You were wiser than I ever will be
I will see you in the paradise of God's fallen men
But now I say good-bye, your soul be free
© Juice C., powell, OH
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It wasn't long ago since my grandpa died, and it was a strange feeling that it gave me. I never mourned his death, or cried to sleep, I just remembered who he was, his long, happy life, and I felt... peaceful.
I suppose, if I cried over his death, I would feel quite selfish, because why be so mournful now? He was gone, but that doesn't mean I'll never see him again, just not for the rest of my short, human life.
His life was good, his time had come, and now he was with his God. He was wiser than me, even if I disagreed with him on a lot of things, but nevertheless, I don't feel sad he's gone.
Why does death exist? It seems so evil, right? I shall never answer that question, for no one truly can. But fearing death is so trivial, so natural, that we forget what we would do if we feared our own lives.