Speechless moments
just before
the final departure,
I was there
on the rocking chair
as if I was on my last swing
in the adventure
of life,
My eyes kept wandering
here and there
at the people
close enough
to my heart,
and with an uneasiness
I kept looking
at the clock,
for I knew
I’m approaching
close to death
every single second
that passed.

I was waiting
for the clock
to strike
half past eight,
the time of leaving
my body
as destined by fate.
As I was about to leave
I saw someone
dancing in the garden,
Probably, Satan,
I shouted, “Look, look,
he’s dancing,
dancing at my death.”
My children
and my grandchildren
couldn’t see him,
neither my wife
could make
what I was talking about,
I was high on my mind,
Just mumbling,
grumbling
screaming,
and shouting;
no one could see
what I was able to.

Those last moments
of any death
never written, never told.
Few minutes
before my death,
a young boy died
in an accident,
at a distance
from my house.
In another few minutes,
I was mumbling,
“It’s not him,
he has already died,
his soul was cut
into two halves,
packed and tied in a bag,
taken by that man
in white clothes.
No, it’s not him,
he is dead.”

The next few minutes,
I was screaming the same,
my children couldn’t
understand my words,
but they kept replying.
The clock struck half past eight,
there was still life
in my body,
My children were thinking,
I am still alive,
but I wasn’t there.
I died as destined,
at the time allotted-half past eight.
It was the half soul
of that young boy
inside my body,
screaming,
that I had died.

After about one hour,
there was complete silence,
The half soul
of that young boy
left,
leaving my lifeless body
behind.
It was my departure
for my family,
but truth always
remained a mystery.