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I won't dance with death
or flirt with it in my mind
death is a cruel thief
it hovers over me
with poison claws
ready to devour me
I will not submit

death is not here to do my bidding,
not here to bring me peace
it comes to rip me from this world
before it's my time to go

it whispers to me, poisonously bitter-sweet:
"come with me, give yourself to me"
"come with me, and I will give you oblivion"

death hangs over me, drains life from me
takes delight in my pain and my suffering
seeks to claim me, sacrifice and chain me

but I refuse
I will not submit

this may be a choice I have to make over and over again
it may turn out to be that way, that I'll have to cry and struggle
almost every day

but every time, every time
I must, I will

choose to live

................................................................................................................


I wrote the above poem and the previous journal entry about an hour ago. An hour later, after taking the time to write my feelings - I feel fine! The mood has passed. Thank God ... that was bad ... really hard this time. However, in between times of sorrow come times of peace and even times of joy. I feel so much better now - writing about my feelings helps me to express them and release them. It is very therapeutic for me.