Poetry by | January 11, 2009

Death is imminent.

Until the star implodes
and sucks all matter
within its grasp.

Even the ray of light
is a fatality
of its tightening grip
and ultimate hold onto life.
It becomes an abyss
of an unknown fate.

Death is near
but there is irony
in its dying existence.
Its penultimate death
becomes a lure
for more of death.
It becomes a rampage
of itself
frightful and threatening
to the unconscious
and slumbering spirit.
Then its last breath respires,
Emerging as a dense matter
of immense massiveness.
So Great,
but crammed with death.
(dedicated to the inequities everywhere)

Yevgeny Honrade works with the Growth with Equity in Mindanao program.

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