Thoughts on Becoming Thoughtless

   
There is calm serenity,
or so they tell me,
in accepting inevitability
quite sedately…

One should not howl,
or question, they said.
One should not pound one’s
cursed, confused head,
but stop, take stock,
and plan one’s sessions,
of lethal lead poisons,
meant
to leak,
amongst my bones.

And one should not try to own
that pain
which could be layered out,
for family gains.
One must not care more
for one’s own fate
than that of suffering others.

One must, of course,
be…smothered,
in sad dignity.
One must not get lost
in health’s infidelity.

But here inside,
lies the truth,
of indemnity,
as I see with my own eyes.

One is becoming
Thoughtless,
long before one’s charted time.

One became diseased today.
It is happening anyway,
so why should one not
seek to say
all that has not passed
my cloudless, acutely conscious
and unmerry way?

It is not my choice;
this cruellest of jokes. But
for all one’s hopes
and plans and dreamscapes,
the escape,
I conclude,
(for you) as well as I,
is as random as love.

And I was always more lover, than fighter.
Now, more frightened
of the fight, than anything other.

Take cover, friend. You didn’t see that coming?
Well no, why on earth would you?
The world chooses who
will stay
and who goes out.

It is a basket piled high with woes.
A tale of the final horrors and throes,
you all shall see.

My mother will surely cry for me,
when I am gone.
But what of it?

Come death and welcome,
for clearly, some bastard lord of fate
would have it so.

Inspired by my grandfather, who died of cancer, and my mother who is suffering from MND.