Death's Monologue(By Irais Bahena) (twinfrey2000.kennedystudent2013@blogger.com)

Death’s Monologue

Death is such a simple thing,

yet humanity makes if difficult.

Why do humans fear me so?

Are they afraid of never seeing the ones they love?

Never seeing the world that hurts them so?

Are they afraid whether they go to heaven or hell?

Or are they afraid of the unknown?

No living knows what happens after you die,

and to know what happens you must speak with the dead.

An impossible feat for the dead cannot speak.

I,Death, the collector of souls and opener of gates,

cannot love,

cannot be hurt,

cannot be happy,

cannot live.

But I did feel all of this at one time.

Yes, I remember it well.

The memory still vibrant as if it occurred yesterday.

I was no mortal at the time,for it happened a few centuries ago

and I am far older than any being on this earth.

I was standing by the death bed of a young male dying from a fever.

Funny, I still remember the cause.

His family, there weeping at his bedside as he struggled to keep alive.

Struggling to somehow grasp the threads of life but they idly passed through his fingers.

I do not know how it happened,

the young male was dying,his face contorted pain and stress.

These faces were not new to me

but then,he saw me.

I knew he was looking at me, felt his faltering gaze somehow managed to focus upon me.

He saw me, Death, a face that many fear, a face that only means terror, a face that means the end of your time has come.

But this man did not scream,

nor did his face show terror,

or even a plea for his life leave his lips.

This man, his face slipped from pain and fear to acceptance.

His restless eyes that resembled the sea slipped into a calm expression,

his face relaxed and his body stopped moving.

he looked as if he were nearly resting. and his kin would have mistaken him for dead if not for his ragged breathing.

His face free of any facial hair and looked as if sculpted by the gods.

His hair was matted and sweat soaked which gave him a tired appearance,

but his beauty could not be flawed by this.

Skin pale like the moon light, unscared, and ready like a canvas.

His blue eyes like the ocean, untamed and yet beautifully attractive.

His gaze upon me lingered before he uttered words that have never been spoken to me.

He welcomed me,

embraced me,

accepted death,

and I could no longer watch him suffer so I did what I came for.

I opened the gates.

It was a century or two after this that I realized something,

in those few minutes that felt like hours something happened,

I felt love,

I felt happiness,

I felt sadness,

I felt pain,

I felt loss.

I realized that I, Death, had lived for a few moments.

Attached: Death's Monologue(blog submission thing)

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