Winter has arrived.
The wait is lonely.
Each breath an agony.
The nights are long.
I can only imagine.
What she goes through.
Beyond that, hers alone.
I cannot follow. I stay.
Cries of anger, I hear.
Mixed with fear. I see.
What comes after death?
Time crawls ever slowly.
Does the soul seek an end?
The body, only skin and bones.
A heartbeat, then another.
Winter drags on silently.
The old who waits for death.
But death is out of reach.
Each morning, a cry escapes.
Winter stretches cold and dark.
Those who die sudden deaths,
are they the lucky ones?
To meet death in seconds,
Where winter is but a myth.
Days turn into months.
Winter becomes endless.
Has God forgotten her?
Night and day has merged.
Into the past of childhood.
What once was, to relive now.
The now left behind, lost.
To see faces long ago dead.
Waiting! That is the truth.
She knows this waiting game.
Sleepless nights of fear.
Death hasn’t laid a claim yet.
The mind has retreated.
Reality has been altered.
No footprints in the snow.
Trapped in a winter blizzard.
This last season in life.
Asking one to accompany.
The impossible. No one.
Alone, as life ebbs out.
By C.E. Pereira
(24-9-2019)
HoneyGwhiz 
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