Don't be alarmed,
I know death,
I've heard it's whispers,
Seen the faces of those afraid to go,

It has taught me why Jesus wept,
and now I weep with him,
Knowing now, I was never strong enough,
Understanding the nature of mine own mortality,

A man writes himself into existence,
making an art of storytelling,
turning his autobiography into fiction,
because the hero always overcomes,

I cannot rest,
Life is our Gethsemane,
and all you ask is that I stay with you in this moment,
All you ask is that I dry the blood from your skin,

All I ask is that you cling to life,
Leave the worrying to me,
Let me handle this fast ball on the outside corner,
All I ask is that you run it back home,

My mother taught me how to pray,
told me God hears the whispers,
I shout to be on the safe side,
Knowing now, I was never really strong enough,

I know death,
Seen my own terrified crying face in the mirror,
Sung hymns as they lowered the bodies,
Never really accepting it,

I've tried the, "Lazarus come forth approach,"
Waited three days to see if their body will rise,
Thinking my prayer will somehow cause that miracle,
Trying to take the work of God into my own hands,

I've learned to not be alarmed when it doesn't work,
I've learned to write myself back into existence after the pain,
I've learned to never rest, and cling to life,
Becoming ashamed that I still get to.

~Another Dream Deferred~