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Honor
November 5, 2018
When death stands at my doorstep
Reaches its silhouetted hand and knocks,
I will not welcome it.
When darkness seeps between the cracks in my windows
And attempts to grasp me in its dark arms,
It will pass through.
When only the sound of my hoarse breathing
Denies my heart its silence,
I will not hold my breath.
I will refuse the silence that seems so becoming,
I won’t give in to my growing urges,
I will fight until I am struck down by a physical enemy.
That is honor.
© Andrew F., Lake In The Hills, IL
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