Death’s Illusion

Waiting for the shoe to drop,

The ax to fall,

Walking on egg shells,

In tentative anticipation.

Can I see the door yet?

Hear deaths call?

Loved ones may die today,

Tomorrow or next?

Misfortune written,

In humanity’s script,

With permanent indelible ink.

Many faiths believing,

The day, minute,

And final hour preset,

In immovable stone.

What a heavy cross to bear!


So how is it,

We sometimes see people who,

Involuntarily laugh at a funeral,

Smile through tears,

Continue loving,

When they know…

All will be lost,

In a moment’s time.

Perhaps eternal soul knows,

Something more?


-Gilda Patricia


Poems that feed the soul

8 thoughts on “Death’s Illusion”

  1. A nice poem Gilda and some poignant reflections on our mortality. There is a Native American saying that “there is no death, only a changing of worlds.” Perhaps their eternal souls knew more?

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