For those who have fallen
as the white wings of death
have come to their bedside
and spread their cushy wings
around their lifeless bodies
and took them to the room upstairs,
fit for Kings and paupers,
saints and thieves alike,
where the ranks of all
human-kind are blended into one
made precious by their falling,
their landing on a far away isle
where love is the controlling tone,
where breathing is a freedom song,
a casting into the skies of sacred air,
a pure part of the abyss, from a
scented lung of roses and life,
an exoneration from the
prison of the dreadful disease.
To the earthbound mourners
who had to let him go alone;
his lungs are now
more fit than yours,
filled with the purest
of the pure air,
the breath of heaven
in a place also reserved
for you in due time.
His nightly falling is now
in the hands of the Almighty,
the one to comfort you
on your morning mourning,
in sympathy for you
about your dread of death.

Since I have no access to the local library's computer during this coronovirus, I had to write it out on my smart phone. It takes a while, but I have plenty of time here at home.

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Nelson D Reyes
11 months

A safer place for you to be. My wife and I opted to have necessities delivered. And we stay put pretty much minding our lives together with our e-devices. No hugs and kisses. Saved for another day.

Faved and loved your poem. Captures that moment of acceptance and ascension. Many times I said I am not scared of death but now that I see the reality of the grim reaper wreaking havoc all over the place with abandon, the danger it imposes to our families and making a picnic out of the disease he has spread, the “dread of death” looms large in my mornings and leaves me in all angst all day. All I can do is accept and my faith tells me that this satanic scourge will soon be satiated and in time, I hope very soon, like any other deadly virus will succumb, burn to ashes and blown away into oblivion for all eternity. Period!
Thanks for capturing this moment of fear and hope so prevalent and rapidly escalating the world over.
Take good care. We’ll do the same.



Robert L. Martin
Robert L. Martin
11 months

These sure are scary times.

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