A Silent Struggle With Mortality

Alone I sit upon a pew

with kin to left and right;

before me lies a box half shut,

dark oak and satin white.

•

Within the hold of gentle folds

my only Love does rest;

beyond my grasp, cold hands now clasp

a rose on breathless chest.

•

Can souls that part by death’s wan veil

rejoin in God’s domain?

A life that’s known of love and loss

may not be worth this pain.

•

With feathers’ hush and heaven breeze

does winged form alight;

beside me sits a seraph hid

from all but my own sight.

•

When offer slips from silent lips

a beat my heart does fail:

“Select a soul to pay my toll

and make your loved one hale.”

•

Can I so choose another here

to pay this highest price?

A life that’s known no love to lose

may yet indeed suffice.

•

A deed so cruel would surely prove

to taint my soul as well;

this angel can’t be from above,

its lot must lie with Hell!

•

But dare I pray that my life may

enact my Love’s rebirth;

before the pall, to knees I fall

to end my time on Earth.

•

Can warmth from hands upon my back

revive a hope within?

A life that’s known of loss yet loves

may find its joy again.

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