Death Where Is Thy Sting

If his demise had come of a sudden

Agony would have brought us to our knees,

The weight of anguish’s heavy burden

Would have bore down forcing guttural pleas;

Immediately released emotion 

Would have surged from ev’ry fiber and sense

Delivering absolute exhaustion,

Destroying any remaining defense.

But its approach came as a slow torture,

His pain incrementally increasing;

Neither he nor we wished him to endure,

We viewed death as a merciful blessing.

His life dripping out of the final wring

Gave new meaning to “Death, where is thy sting?”

March 2016