Time Stops

Poem Four: Short poem, about Death and His coming.

Time Stops



The heart thumps its final beats.

One, two, three, so Death defeats

A life that held so much of the world,

Memories and love and wonder swirled

With more than one can tell of this life,

But Death has won His trophy in strife.



The heart has stopped and the blood is still,

Yet the brain fires neurons, and remains in will.

But that lasts for only mere moments of time,

Echoing all the life in a sincere and silent rhyme.

But now time slows as an impossible dream.

The life lingers, like the last few minnows in a stream,

Rushing about and fighting to exist,

In a world so harsh, pounded by Death's fists.



If Heaven exists, it is in this time,

When the brain is active and in its prime.

This moment spans forever, though Death has won.

The soul is free to reside, reposed under a sun,

Of a brilliant sky so perfect and utterly calm.

But the body has died, crushed under Death's dirty palm.