The Unexpected Hour

The Unexpected Hour
What is IT that Stocks the Soul and Wounds the broken heart?
Why do lonely and unfortunate people flock to it?
Does
Death give answers?
Or does pain swelling Cloud the issue?

In the hour of Death one runs to it as if IT is his or her savior.
And Death, Death is often the first thing a prisoner
Considers.
“How, when, where,
And, will anyone care?”

Death crawls under My door enticing Me to embrace its Haven.
The fog creeps in my soul and the cool breeze is
Hypnotizing.
That I must shake myself to awaken my semi-numbed senses!
And, in the hour of Death, I unexpectedly find
Life !

(C) Ileana Reich 2004