Death Can't Be Cheated

And the tale goes like this…

A kind man was able to make friends with death (I forgot how). This man married and had a kid. He made death the godfather of his kid. And death gifted the kid the ability to see him. Death told the kid that whenever he stands by the foot of someone’s bed it means that the person is about to die, something must never be disrupted in anyway lest the cycle of life breaks. This was a fascinating skill, however the kid grew up to be a doctor. He sees whether each patient he takes on will live or die. One patient who was badly ill made him do something he was forbidden to do. A dying man was loved so much by a wife and pleaded to him to do what he can to keep the man alive. Naturally kindhearted, the young man heeded. When Death appeared at the foot of the dying man’s bed, he turned the bed around with the patient’s head right where the feet used to be. Thus, Death could not touch the man. This angered Death, and he warned the grandson that the act will lead to something bad. The grandson did not heed. Soon the grandson met a woman and got married. This wife got struck by an illness that cannot be cured. Knowing that she is about to die, the grandson waited for the time death will appear on the foot of the wife’s bed. When he finally did, the grandson did what he does to save lives. The wife survived but the grandson fell dead on the floor. The wife devastated by her husband’s death cried to Death for the reason. Turns out that every time the doctor turns a bed of a dying person around, the candle of his life melts away in exchange for the life that should have been taken. And on the night that the wife was supposed to die, the remaining small portion of the grandson’s candle was exchanged for hers.

Thus, Death cannot be cheated entirely. In the Harry Potter movie, Death cunningly looked for a way to finish the job. The same way Death looked for a way in the fairytale.

Someday I Shall Write You a Poem

Someday I will write you a poem
It will voice out my heart
And debate against my brain
Create a hole in my habit
Break traditions,
And definitely draw doubt to all my beliefs.
The poem will speak of you
With you
The words will reach out to depths
Immeasurable, yet to you reachable
The structure will be a reminder
Of freedom
Of the Arts, which we share
One way or another
Rhyme and meter will not exist
It has no boundaries
This poem will have no interpretation
Only that it is a compilation of words
Of thoughts
Of an endless argument
Between a persistent heart
And a proud mind
It will be a poem fashioned
With a beautiful beginning,
And copious crescendos,
Yet without conclusion


7:51 Nov. 14