Impassioned
Prose Poetry
I wanted to
say it was all nonsense, when I heard it.
I
wanted to reassure myself of this—
This
Bad news, perhaps was misunderstood news, why?
Because
bad news is hard to swallow promptly.
“Yes,
it was bad news!” I told myself.
“It’s
not possible,” I urged my mind’s eye.
“It’s
not possible for in a moment’s time, that one can die so suddenly, being so
young!”
“Isn’t
it?”
I
talk to myself a lot in such times.
You
don’t believe it at first, —you can’t believe it—
But
I have in the past already admitted the possibility of such a thing, sudden
death, a young death, I’ve seen it before—
Otherwise
I’d not be writing what I’m writing, now would I.
And
to be frank, believing and then it actually happening, makes it worse!
But
evidence, is evidence, there’s a dead man in the coffin to prove it…
And
to be honest, the older you get, the less evidence you need.
Becoming
ill over a death, is also a form of supplementary evidence, and his wife I
think is ill, belief just hitting her, with knee jerks, stomach pain, it all
comes with the package.
“It’s
just a death—something of that kind,” someone mumbles in the background.
I
mean, it’s not the worse or the best kind of death, sudden death, and we all
got to face it, sudden or not! — Not bury our heads in the sand until it’s too
late to make peace with God.
This
is not ridiculous mumbo jumbo, no bag of tricks here!
The
devil traps us, he creates an atmosphere that appears important:
This
is really concealment!
He
doesn’t want you to hear the voices at the distance; you see, the angels are
calling (and he’s got his
radio loud!)…
No: 7-9-2015/ No: 4695
DLSiluk © 2/2015
