The choice – The hand of friendship

by Mar 22, 2004Poetry

Anirach únad
Egor gurth hen
Han cenin vi chen lín
Egor ú-erin le devi
Tellin men achae
Brennin men anann
Rago! U-erich leithio,
Ú-erich o nin gwanno.

You want nothing more
Than this death.
I see it in your eye.
But I cannot let you
We have come too far
We have held on too long.
Reach! You cannot let go,
You cannot leave me.

(Phillipa Boyens, David Salo)

Here I hang
Suspended above the abyss.
The choice is mine.
Hold on?
Let go?

My scrabbling fingers
Fight, clinging
To hope and life.

My mind whispers
“Let go! Let go!
All hope is lost!” And I would welcome death.
Free from pain and torment.

A nothingness.

Empty blackness.

Quiet, rest, ease, sleep.

I yearn to be released
From this crushing,
Overwhelming burden.

I hear Its voice,
Pleading, calling, begging,
Dying . . .
It would have me share Its doom.

Another voice,
Calling from a great distance,
Urgent with love.
“Don’t you let go!”
“Don’t let go!”

A hand reaching down to mine.
I will live.


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