By My Deathbed

My mind stirred, to the smell of dead leaves
Awaiting death on a bed, as one heaves
I called my friends to come and share
To shock my soul and cast me thread bare

Talk to me, O' my poetess friend, Of life
Or stories of victory, desolation or strife
Or calm my nerves with praises of nature
Of a beautiful death that shall befit my stature

"Life is, but a transient flash of light", she said
"In an ether of darkness, in between we tread"
"Embrace the darkness, for that is still and real"
"In darkness rests the soul, Dark is the burial".

Her reality, I so detest my believer friend.
To lighten my soul, please unto me, your vision do lend
"Utter the lord's name and find thy place in heaven", he says
But in wonder and mystique, do I think of heaven always

For what is heaven, but an haunted home
Like ghosts, in paradise we roam
Melancholic in comfort, in and out of doors
Nectar to drink, yet our voices hoarse.

"I shall sing to you for music ravishes the soul"
My musician friend, proceeds on his lofty goal
From the seven notes to intricate harmonies, he crafts
As my mind travels upon the ocean on forgotten rafts

Enriched and entertained, I thank my friend, from my heart
Music, it knows no birth or death, like any other art
Is it from the wind, from the earth, from the birds or trees ?
Where from is music born, one of our greatest mysteries.

"Music shan't be your cure", opines my friend, the philosopher.

As ripples and waves do not define the might of the river

"Know yourself and thy shall lend to this world"

"What life has lent to you, at all shall be hurled"

Alas!, I know not, what I have thus by life, learned.

Nor have I piety, wealth, health or salvation earned.

As my friends depart, they cast gentle smiles of knowing.

Of Knowing the comfort, that my sleep does bring.

Pic Courtesy : "By the Deathbed" - www.edvard-munch.com