Finite Act

Breath falls heavy,
yet head feels light,
hands can’t hold steady,
muscles grow tight.

It comes down to this,
this one point in time:
it is why we exist,
life past the prime.

Laid upon death bed
with eyes softly closed.
No more can be said
with past set exposed.

If life were a book
I’d rewrite my story,
so if one might look
they’d see only glory.

Nearer draws death.
Conclusions remain.
with one final breath,
so ends all my pain.


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A perception on the final thoughts of someone who faces their own death, lifes final scene.


poem, death, acceptance, tragedy

I design, you buy. Keep it simple :)

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  • DesignBakery
    DesignBakeryabout 4 years ago

    This is an excellent poem. Very touching.

  • your comments are always much appreciated :)

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