It's the End of the World

And all we have left

Is the dead hope in our chests

And the bullseye

On our backs.

It's the End

of

the

World.

There's no new futures

to be had

Only the radio of prophecy

Stuck on rewind

in our heads.

Just you and me

All alone in the wreckage

Of this world.

The time of The Horsemen

has come.

Angry and tired,

We rebuke the Wicked One.

Don't tell me to be brave

That battle is done.

It's you and me

Against the world, baby.

We'll return to

where our Souls

came from.

Lost count...

Been battling demons forever

It's YOU

And ME

AGAINST the WORLD

of worlds...

"Its you and me against the world."

That was the last thing she said to me before running to the front line.

"Its you and me against the world."

I said as I entered a cold room, her body on a table.

"We did it."

She said when she woke up.

Death, I feared.

Not anymore.

Has no hold,

broken bond.

I can smile bright now.

It's going to be okay.

Even though the future,

I know not all about,

Neither the day

Nor the time

When my

appointment will come.

Whatever the day,

Hope tells me

I'll smile and say

It's okay

Because God I've found

I'm free, my mind's sound.

Let me tell you a story, wanderer. Let me tell you a story, wanderer.

Let me set the scene.

The first time I thought I'd met with Death,

I was this little thing.

I'd just eaten a bit too much,

Or so the doctor said.

They took me to the hospital

And I was told to lose some weight, fix my small body, how simple

So it wouldn't happen again.

Years later, I still struggle with

Breathing problems from time to time,

Ask my inhaler if you doubt me

Panic attacks make me lose my breath as well, yet another factor

Not sure "pigging out" and softness were truly the issue, anymore.

And don't get me wrong, we see little glimpses of him at random, don't we?

When you take that near misstep off the stairs and imagine ourselves tumbling, tumbling...

When we close our eyes and try to flash forward, try to imagine what it would be like to drown, to sink, to fly?

Death and I are old friends.

Old friends that have never truly met.

He's been a comfort in times Life was so difficult I couldn't breathe, anymore.

The thought of him reminded me of a peace I am yet to know.

So I wrote him letters, called to him desperately, asked for freedom the only way I knew how

And Death, kind as he is, said nothing.

Some days, I'm still unsure of whether he did me a service or the opposite

I'm still here, still alive and still kicking despite..

I'm not okay, not quite yet

But I can tell you genuinely that I got better.

Sometimes I still dance with a dream of him in the shadows of my mind

But I'm learning to let go.

He'll visit at his own time

And when he does?

We'll meet like old friends, do our little dance once the show is over

For now though, his disinterest in my pleas has made him my biggest cheerleader.

So let's give this thing a good go for as long as it lasts.

a memory, though

the burden itself may be

heavier than expected when

you recall a glimpse of me.

It is not my intention to

bring sorrow, rather joy.

A parting moment, smile,

or words of wisdom to employ.

And if this weight becomes

too much, you may certainly concede

to take a breath, a moment,

before you dutifully proceed.

The work you have committed to

in remembering my face

will fulfill the soul's desire

that death cannot erase.

There is no death, I

Walk through the valley, though fear

Follows not, with me

I am, the spring rain

I am, the deepest of wells

Come back home...to me

Tell me, why you fear

Ending, all that you have known

Do you know at all?

I’ve lived one long life for many years,

And found much to treasure,

A fair share of smiles and tears,

As I reflect on memories with little displeasure,

I think that I surely have had,

A life well lived by any measure.

No, all my dreams I did not yet beget,

But with certainty I say,

Despite it all, I have not one regret.

So if the dream of life now should end,

And soon I wake in the arms of death,

Why not greet him as a friend?

As my story comes to its final chapter,

Let it in the epilogue be said:

With friends and family around her,

She died not with fear, but a smile instead.

Smiling at death, no more afraid

A brave face I choose to make

Though it's hard, I try to be brave

My courage I need to take

Acceptance, I know, is the only way

To put my fear of death at bay

My life is precious and made of days

So I must find a way to face my fate

My spirit will not be broken

Though I am surrounded by fear,

I will not be forsaken

And I will conquer my own fear

I will not bemoan my fate,

I will not lament my life

I will not wait in vain

To accept death, without any strife

My courage will be a shield

A rock, protecting my head

I will face death and not yield

My faith will keep me ahead

Smiling at death, I do not dread

Acceptance, my heart will take

Though it's hard, I will not be swayed

My courage, I choose to make.

Only if he knows what it means to have sorrow be your neighbor.

Only if there is a sweetness and fierceness in his eyes that signals "rest here, no one will hurt you."

Only if he knows what joy means and finds it in the little things.

Only then, only if...

I will tear down the wall to this ragged heart of mine.

Only then, will I let you in.