There you lie, old man
Wired up in a nightmare,
Tubes, machines, lights,
Hell,
Life Support.
As you struggle for life
You uncover in us old scabs,
That lay festering, unhealed
Unresolved.
Erratic artificial beeps,
Antiseptic corruption,
We stand near and watch you dying
As demons circle our souls
Your pain is unconscious,
Ours surface from psychic scars,
This was supposed to be the past
God, not now, not again,
Why us?
Fate’s fickle finger forcing us
To confront our biggest trial,
A history thought long dealt,
Locked away forever,
Not.
As the plugs to your life are removed,
As your liberty is handed back,
We stare through tears of mourning,
For ourselves, as well as you.
But as life will have it,
We face your dimming pulse,
And faint whisper that you are fine
Filters through the gloom
The burden of life’s long ache,
Is lifted, soothed and healed,
We see that this is raw living
And peace is born
In closing your chapter
You re-open ours
A gift we can only repay
By living once again
Copyright Pierre Nunns
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