How Will I Go?

Will my heart fail
suddenly with no real warning,
lacking such decorum
as a by-your-leave,
or will my demise creep
with casual mocking,
as brain and frail body
are gnawed by thieves?

Perhaps a knife blade
thrust by a loved one
will serve as my curtain call,
or a blunt, heavy object
cast without heed
will punch me to nothingness,
cursing as I fall.

Will I go alone,
slouched in an armchair,
gazing into a crackling fire?
Or will I have guests
surrounding my death-bed
with the spurious sobs
of well-practiced liars?

Perhaps a final caress
in the arms of an enemy
will carry me into the great divide,
or I will be one
in a crushing assemblage,
under skies torn asunder
as planets collide.

Will it all matter
when I reach the conclusion
of my role in this unfolding tale?
Will the masses cry
with sincere sadness
that I have no more words to unveil?

Perhaps a mere few
will mourn my passing
with a toast and stifled laughter,
or as one with a soul-mate
and a morning-dew kiss,
we will enter the neverafter.

© 2015 Scott Kaelen
Featured in DeadVerse: Poetry Volume One

2 thoughts on “How Will I Go?

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