death is waiting for me

Death is waiting for me
Just as he waits for you
Ever so patiently.

Don’t know if he’s
Peering ‘round the corner
Or waiting, waving a sign
At the end of times.

Will death poses a man
And condemn that soul
With mortal hands
As life is strangled
From my face

Or slip silently into my heart
As some disease
Contracted from contact
With forms like rats
And things that have slithered
In the dark.

To say could it be then
That it will be the makers
Hand, in the end,
Indeed,
that strikes me down.

Divine retribution.
Punishment for every wicked deed
And every soul lost;
For every time I said I didn’t care
And chose to turn my back.

Will I die a man of glory
Having bested all life’s
Endeavours;
Childhood, brotherhood,
Fatherhood?
Having understood
Manhood?

Or will I die a worm
Crawling on his belly
Cowardly,
Hiding his head in the sand
Saying what I don’t see
Cannot hurt me.

I don’t know, but,
Death is waiting for me
Just as he waits for you.

Ron Bergquist
Jan, 26th 2011

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