O Xaros Bgyke Pagania

Death is everywhere you look.

Birth has a 100% death rate,

But it’s what you do in the meantime that counts.

Don’t count the time,

But what you have given back.

Cos in the end, that is what is

Accounted.

Taxes

Are less sure.

I haven’t paid any in years,

But I’m sure I have enough to pay the Ferryman.

“A Penny for the Old Guy.”

Is my soul as light as a feather

Or do my sins weigh me down

Am I to do this again

Or will I join the Choir Invisible

An ex-brain injury

This brain injury is Deceased.

Ceased to Be.

To Be or not to Be

Is a question that will eventually Be answered

When I’ve shaken off This Mortal Coil

How soon is now

Death is not a Train or a Subway,

Just a lonely Ferry Ride.

I have dipped my finger in the River Styx.

It was warmer and more comforting than

I had thought.

Far too comforting.

Disconcertingly comforting

That is why so many are tempted to dive in.

I was,

But,

Comfort is too disconcerting to me.

If something seems too good to be true,

It probably is.

So Says I.

Image by infomatique via Flickr

Image by infomatique via Flickr