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At My Own Pace
He who feared death dragged his feet,
He who craved death ran.
Me myself, I took my time
To meet the honored man.
It made no difference, really,
Each in their own time came.
And if I chose to see the sights?
He did not seem to blame.
And so I smelled each flower,
And bowed to every tree,
And to each stream I tipped my hand,
As it hurried carelessly.
And when I finally reached that place
Where Death, my keeper, stood?
I knew him by his smile,
And death, like life, was good.
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| a nice reminder to make the most of it, content to walk a little slower. thanks |
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you made this flow very well and although one might think comparing life with death is very morbid I can relate. Death is the extension of life we just havent taken that path yet but in time we all will.
I enjoyed reading this. |
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Comment by: Ithiya - 2008-04-03 01:48
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Mm, no, it actually is an idea of how some people fear death as if everyone doesn't die one day, while others are suicidal, as if death will improve things. I gave Death as human form, and offered a sort of, it will come in its own time. I'll enjoy now, and when I do meet him, I'll be ready.
Though I was interested to read your interpretation as well. It was a totally different viewpoint, and set me thinking.... |
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Comment by: MsWizard Online- 2008-04-03 01:44
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| I think that my interpretation of this would be that Death is a love in your life. A mate who was painful to you...would I be correct? That is how I read this one.... |
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Comment by: Ithiya - 2008-04-02 20:34
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| Um, okay, yes, but that wasn't really the point I was trying to make, I admit. |
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