The Gentle Die

Twin fires danced beyond his eyeballs,

As molten lead was poured on his heart.

He felt it going solid,

As his soul fell apart.

Can one describe the rage without knowing?

Drink deep the black rivulets of night?

Know hopelessness without hoping?

And darkness without the light?

‘Don’t go gentle,’ someone once said,

But what good does fighting really do?

Can you get even a moment more,

Before that moment they all rue?

He knew better, once upon a time,

His own old words gave hell.

Yet, wrathful, he did the crime.

The purposeful stride and fell.

In his heart he railed well,

‘If they all go, why not I?’

‘Should I alone suffer,

‘The fightless life and, gentle, die?

Then he was let to fall,

A granite pinnacle allowed to rise,

His heart was pierced asunder,

And the fire left his eyes.

“Who are you to wonder?

“Who are you to ask why?”

Let his sweat bring forth thorns,

As the gentle get to die.

Remember words shared in your youth,

It’s what I can recommend.

For to wrestle with death is futile,

Your heart will break after it bends.

Then he was brought to mountaintop,

The world below to see.

Watching as people ran without stop,

And their efforts cared them out to sea.

“Observe all of their ragings,

“Against who they do not know.

“They try to forget, pursue happiness,

“Do anything to replace my Glow.”

Tears quenched the final embers,

As his heart broke open anew.

A flower rebirthed from winter death,

Recalling what he once knew.

The hole his heart had suffered,

Would be with him till he died.

But remembering his soul was gentle,
He had no reason now to ask why.