death bed.

And here I am.

Final drink,

Ward's bed,

Death's brink,

Slipping thread.

Here, my egoistical belief I was infinite,

Meets its binding fixity.

How ever did I allow nothing but memories.

to fool me of my being's locked tragedy.

How did I allow mere capricious moments,

to let me forget of my mortality.

Windy skies, messy laughter, thoughtless dance, busy summers,

Was it enough to overlook my finality?!

I am every taut touch, slack smile, skittish kiss

Yet in the end, I am nothing but a body.

Oh, but truly,

I wish you blind conceited eternality.