by Alain Obando

Created on: October 06, 2008   Last Updated: September 02, 2011

I was presumed dead... cold to the touch and pale... loved by some but also hated by many,

Those who came to see me through parties for the event, hovering balloons were plenty;

Roses were scarce. More came to laugh than to grieve, they rejoiced and exchanged smirks

Across my coffin. I could not open my eyes, they were bolted shut but I could feel the stares,

Penetrating my embalmed flesh like the worms that prepared themselves to feast up on it.

I could feel the hot hatred in peoples eyes scanning over my face, pause... then sat upon it.

My lungs exhaled a horrifying scream from the burn and I leaped out of that casket so fast, the flame blew off

I looked at the crowd of shocked faces before me and noticed they could not erase their shock off,

A muffled sound broke the eerie silence, it was the metal bolts and screws that fell from my eyes,

I shook the ashes and the dust from my clothes off, and rose an arm, opened my mouth to speak

But nothing came out, I tried to say at least one word but all that was uttered was a broken creek.

I was alive, and with my own unbearable disbelief clung onto my chest, I breathed in the breath of life

To ensure that it was real. All I could think of now was, how can a person know what life is, if they can't explain death?

And so I must explain it as best I can with the little life I have left, because everything in this world dies...

But attempting to save a life when given the choice is what life itself implies, so instead of trying to speak, I hugged

Each and everyone of my enemies and placed a gentle kiss in each and every one of their cheeks.

Some of them seemed confused, others drew their weapons but most of them understood, in death

Even an enemy should be respected and in life, we should respect the unavoidable fate that everything

That breathes will one day have to face which is death, that might shoot today... so why wish death

On someone when death will never the less claim their breath as well as yours. Perhaps you care less

Right now but you'll think of it when death's spears pour down like rain, you'll think about it when you feel that pain,

When a priest starts receipting "ashes to ashes" and when the worms start knawing their way into your pores.

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