The Last Breath


(We have been discussing the soul and death in school a lot

and I found this old poem that I think fits well. It is a difficult topic

and one I hope to analyze in a metaphysical level.)

When it comes to the end

To transcend life

I cannot comprehend but I know

It’s not pretty, pink, prim or gitty

It is none of these things

For example watch a rated R movie

You will see

What I mean about the end

But the movies have only the look of death down

Pale, cold, final words, crying hands to hold, dramatic fall

The rest of the movie’s ideas

A mass of lies

In reality death not about that cinema glory

Or the man who died doing what he loved

Those are words newscasters love to use to

Place a blanket of cover

Over the deadly details and truth

When it comes to the end

How ever painful

Or painless it may be

The last breath of life is the final act

In your life

However miserable or wonderful it was

That last breath is the last thing you’ll see

So when the unfortunate but unavoidable light comes

You must choose sprint from it or towards it

You might be triumph you might be defeated

Chase it, embrace the outcome

And take your last breath

Knowing as you do

The final gasp, grasp of air

Before the cold claws of death

Sink their claws into you

Remember that you lived

That you were accomplished, loved, content

Remember before death takes you

And you’re a gravestone in row 2

Now the world goes on

But without you

So sip that breathe and enjoy the sweet taste it will give

Because you will soon no longer live

You make me smile on a dreary day


It’s spinning haphazardly
It’s hopping along like a baby chick full of life
It’s a joy, a splash of color
On these strange somewhat uninviting tracks
It dances a waltz with the wind happy to oblige
A spirited and joyous dance
You cannot help but watch
The deep purple against a cloudy sky
The contrast is striking as the waltz continues
Then it’s over quicker than it began
Suddenly the train zooms by
All I can think is
Will I ever witness such a waltz
Will something so ordinary transform
Into something more?
More than a mere balloon…

When the soul cries


It’s is the body really omitting all the tears, at first
It’s shaking slowly then violently, sobbing
It’s a deep puncturing cry that the soul feels and reacts to
The soul squirms at first, it cannot handle the pain the body feels.
The soul in its wisdom tries to comfort the body, doing everything it can to relax the body, stop the agony.
It calms, it strokes the body trying to make the pain flow away.
It omits happier memories the happiest it possesses, working tirelessly to cease the storm.
It does not always work and chaos ensues.
So the soul begins to cry along lacking in its comfort, causing the cry
To be an entire other level of pain, hurt, despondence.
The pain becomes unbearable as the body and soul are both under attack at the same moment.
The soul and body unite in a level of pain the human within the body has not felt before.
It’s upsetting and when it finally ends
When the shaking stops and the tears no longer flow something happens to the soul.
The soul now has a deep, ugly mark
One that over time heals, sometimes…