Relief is Death

Disheartened to say the least,

Life like an incandescent flame, 

Ever wavering in the breeze. 

And do I find relief?

For it is all I seek…

Abundant in it’s keep, 

Yet to me, it’s not released. 

I dwell upon mortality,

A life, ill-complete. 

I find I’m fitted differently,

All I wish, beyond my reach. 

Though I stretch my arms, 

I beg for sweet relief,

It calls back to me,

Quite passionately;

But in its words, I find no ease.

‘For relief the price is often steep,

And all you love will kneel at your feet,

They’ll weep and wish you hadn’t conceived,

The favor, the flavor of sweet relief. 

‘Tis death, ‘tis death, that which you seek?’