A loner's Ravings

The privacy of Death enthralls me. The everlasting silence. What else can possibly be more definite, more ultimate than that. I mean, once dead, you stay dead. Period. And explanations-- come on !! Don't make me laugh. Try explaining stuff to the insatiable companion known by various names, Death being the one I like most. You can hate the companion or you can like him but he never wavers. He likes you all along and so much that no matter what you think, feel, or have ever imagined about him is insufficient. He is not dark, he is not fearsome, he is not scary. He is the best and most beautiful friend anyone can ever have. Welcome, dear friend. I await thee.

Death can be so peaceful, or so gruesome. I thought I could tell when it is peaceful and when it is gruesome. Now I know I was wrong. The lady pulled out her tracheostomy tube right in front of me, turned blue and expired. People were screaming, Some staring in silent disbelief, At death, so near. But her face, Pallid and blue at the same time, A strange color you don't often see, Her face was so peaceful. As if she had finally done what she had always wanted to do, As if she was done with all the nonsense that was being done to her body And she seemed to be smiling in her death with her eyes open. And I am sitting here, confused beyond words. And an image that refuses to go away.

The sense of death stalking you in utter silence is the most unnerving of all fears. When you realize that your fears are indeed true, the starkness of life hits you right in your soul. The meaning of a measly life. The meaning of a miserable death. Why does it have to be like this. No. This is not a protest. You don't protest with the dark and silent reaper.