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About Death

It is said that
Whenever we exhale
We are dead for a moment,
We keep pulling back
Life,
Inhaling and believing 
Life to be a continuum
While forgetting
That life is nothing 
But a series of constant struggle
Of a breath to inhale
Until
We can continue to do it no more
And surrender 
Before the yawning 
Death, which looks 
At our pre-ordained defeat
And prevails
With a laugh
Which thunders through
The bosom of the skies.
Human mind,
Prevaricates, belies and befools
Ourselves 
Until the truth shatters
Our little, make-believe existence. 
I know it will happen to me
Someday, as to anyone else,
And tired of struggle 
I do not struggle to win
I wait to embrace the 
Eternal defeat,
But I have sneaked in 
A slight victory, slyly
Unknownst to death 
The Ethernal,
The little girl
Who will wink at death
When in that moment of defeat.

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