TERMINAL

TERMINAL

Only those who are
Know how it feels
To be fatally ill.

One day, not if, but when,
The meds will no longer work.
The disease will then spread at will,
Performing an uninterrupted assault
On what was once a life.

Philosophy? I think, therefore I am?
Well, there things that no amount of thought
Will deter or hold at bay.
Its not as if I was not already dying,
Now the process has moved full speed ahead.

I wonder how I will fare in another exsistence?
I never really think I will return as an animal having
Tempting fate so in casting a shadow in the
Prescence of the Human form.

Day and night no longer struggle in my mind,
They are like cycles of one continuous whole.
Knowing there are limits on time and space
Redefine how I view time.

I must say its not with sadness I accept my fate
But with a sense that somehow a veil has been removed.
I have no choice but to accept change gracefully.
Its not like I am the only one who has to think
Of these things.

A man awaits his fate in some remote cell with nothing but
Time to ponder his fate. I wonder does he think of his victim's
Next of kin and the relief and sense of closure his death will bring?
But I am not a criminal nor have I had a good time becoming ill.
Its like my life has been a gift from someone else and now I must
Pay back the balance by working the rest of my life for the benefit
Of someone else. Fair Enough!

Actually in full cognizance that one's time has been cut short one's
Attitude may become very positive. I am learning to add to, build on,
Share with, and create, since I won't be here to enjoy why not make
It palatable for someone else?

A saint? Hardly! perhaps my life would be better defined as somewhat
Enlightened hedonist who is starting realize his limit.