Whether I have faith
Or not,
Death has faith
In me.
And it will
find me
Today or tomorrow.
It taints my life
And my love,
my hopes
and wants.
Such dogged pursuit
puts me
in simple frame of mind.
Yet if the sun still rises
Then what
Of my concerns?


One thought on “Pursuit

  1. Is Death the hungry hunter, that stalks his pray at every turn, waiting for the moment to strike, when their back is turned?
    Or is Death the noble servant, waiting to perform his duty, with honor, not to chase someone down, but to be there by their side ready, when they need him?
    Is every moment of joy that we can wring from this life a spit in Death’s eye?
    Or is it a moment in which he shares your joy, grateful for the respite from performing his tragic duty.
    Standing, apart from us, watching…
    …are they the eyes of a relentless killer, or a patient guardian?

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