His breathing labored as he slept,
And through the night we softly wept.
And as each morning sun appeared,
We'd check to see if what we feared,
Had come to pass.
Five days he lingered in this way,
As Death he pushed back one more day.
Death is still, waiting, standing by,
Waiting for the old one to die.
Time had come to pass.
And so at last, his breathing quit,
In silence soul and body split.
Fluttering heart would beat no more,
And looking through the open door,
His time had come to pass.
When looking at him on his bed,
'Twas hard to grasp that he was dead.
And sleeping there forevermore,
He'd left when we were off the floor.
Alone, his time had come to pass.
© 1999, Deacon Ed Faulk
*Thanatos is Greek for "Death"
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