Death is worse than it used to be.
In the old days, people died all the time-
expectant women, babies, fathers gone to war;
the young, the old, the neither here nor there.
Delicate ladies lay on sofas for years
dying in public from the inside out,
but we are made of stronger stuff and choose
to live until it is too hard and then
we rest. In those days death knew its place
as enemy- now it masquerades as a friend
who rescue us from the pain and tedium of age.
But when death shows its hand, its out of season
power, it reveals just what it is- the ancient
foe of all that is life- the cause of humanity’s despair.