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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: of an ending.dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: wilted_
    ASL Info:    20/f/singapore
    Elite Ratio:    5.22 - 138/110/29
    Words: 596
    Class/Type: Prose/Serious
    Total Views: 886
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3017



    Description:
       i guess i will let my submission speak for itself. comments are greatly appreciated.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsof an ending.dots
    -------------------------------------------


    Strange. I have been trying to revise for examinations I know I will not sit for. The endless repetitions of words flow into sentences; sentences form random paragraphs on pages after pages of a text with a title I can barely recall. I turn to the very last page of the book only to see a blank. I should have known. The symbolism of this knowledge that slips momentarily almost ridicules me.

    The other day, I sat amongst the others in the lecture hall and the entire time, I was suppressing my laughter. It is funny, isn’t it; that nobody had the least vague idea that there was a dying person sitting in the midst of everyone else. I guess they who never looked Death in His face would never recognize Him even if I were to walk up to them.

    I ask for no burial plot, no tablet. There shall not be a tangible place where people can go to, to exhibit various degrees of grief for my departure. I ask not for loved ones to commemorate this cowardly act of mine. After all, flowers and prayers, they mean nothing to the dead.

    The doctor sums up the time-span of my future to a lengthy four months. I can almost perceive them pleading me to live life to the fullest, as best as I can. My past years of fleeting existence have been pointless, what more a period of a few months? Does it really matter, the last few footsteps that I will take, when there are many others ahead that I no longer can?

    They will question. I expect them to, anyway. Yes, perhaps it does take courage to end your own life. But to live on, that takes another sort of courage all together. Courage not spawned from weakness, apprehension, hopelessness or desolation.

    Almost. Yes, almost. A word I use over and over again. Almost lived. Almost did not succumb to this unrelenting illness. Almost had the courage. Almost believed I was immortal. It appears that I must have overlooked the fairness of Death, He who does not discriminate.

    It is getting late, but I shall not rest. The sleeping state is no more endurable than the waking. In slumber, I often dream of embracing Death, who took your form, only to have you disintegrate in my hold. A vagrant must have cast me that dream. I almost want to smile though.

    My yearning for Death is as intense as my longing for you. I cannot stop loving you. Yes, even if I try.

    I looked out of the window just now. And I wasn’t quite sure if what I saw was paradise or an inferno of raging flames, that awaits me.

    Take aim, and miss.

    I remember how you’d place tulips at my doorstep. Perhaps one day, when you see fallen petals of withered tulips, you will think of me again. You may then realize the significance of the time when we sat side by side, not speaking. You reached for my hand and asked me what I was waiting for. And I simply smiled. You could never have guessed from my silence.




    Submitted on 2005-10-28 12:11:47     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      whoa. this was such a powerful piece... I could feel the emotions throughout the piece, and the lack of it in the prose's persona. the ideas behind the prose were brilliant, in my opinion, they posed some question marks in my head. what after life? would we feel death? I guess these are questions without answers, until one finally ceases breathing. Maybe, by knowing death, one would know what life meant. unfortunately, we can't exactly say the same the other way around. after all, by knowing death, by dying, or by being dead - what life is left for us to experience?

    " The doctor sums up the time-span of my future to a lengthy four months. I can almost perceive them pleading me to live life to the fullest, as best as I can. My past years of fleeting existence have been pointless, what more a period of a few months?"

    It is my point of view that taking one's own life is not a solution to problems, however, one can find it completely sensible, reasonable to do so, regardless of how many years, months, days we have left to live. people tell us that life is a gift, that we should cherish it, live it to the fullest - but to what purpose do we heed this message? Only to collapse into breathlessness, with everything we feel, think, remember rendered into inexistence. once again, we think of how little sense life makes, what with our ignorance about death.

    I'm sorry if I got a little carried away with my thoughts there... I have a tendency to ramble. but anyway, I loved this prose that you wrote - I guess it speaks for itself, as you say. It would be rather tiring for me to commend and praise your wording, language and style. I think that the fact that I've bothered to think about the idea behind your piece is sufficient enough to tell you how much I appreciated you posting this. well, I think I'm going to read more of your previous works now.
    | Posted on 2005-10-28 00:00:00 | by zhi wei | [ Reply to This ]
      wow, this piece was powerfull written.
    feelings are overflowing in this poem.
    so many questions asked to a world of no answers.

    so many times you read reasons of why, yet here it seems to much more real. I think because we can all feel it.

    'Yes, perhaps it does take courage to your own life. But to live on, that takes another sort of courage all together. Courage not spawned from weakness, apprehension, hopelessness or desolation.'

    deep & thoughtful words. it seems like it would be easier to take your life then live in what you know is nothing but darkness ahead. The next part was my favorite.
    Almost, but didnt.

    the end a very sad note, yet one that leaves you asking those questions that will never be answered.
    this poem truly touched me & brought a whole new look upon death really.
    The reasons seem but piece of something much bigger.
    You did a wonderful job on this,
    take care
    ~jennifer

    | Posted on 2005-10-28 00:00:00 | by joy7542 | [ Reply to This ]


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    79085

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


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