I wrote to you last, talking about the day,
that your spirit slipped away.
As those moments, drag on in my mind,
I lose all comprehension of time.
Recalling the chaos of hurried souls,
as they seem to dance around you.
The curtains closed, but they did not stop,
and the sound of their voices grew.
His voice delivering words, I begged to hear,
and the curtains were drawn open.
Devastation has surrounded us all,
as we watch, praying and hoping.
Your body has become so frail,
and the violent jerks look painful.
I hear his screams telling them to stop,
only to save your life, they are unable.
In these moments I am fully aware,
of what transpires around me.
A gripping weight pulling on my back,
hearing my mother scream and plea.
Both of my sisters' pain echoing,
as their cries fill and drown the halls.
I stand there like a statue - unmoving,
waiting for the outcome of it all.
There are fifteen people in the room,
and ten more, outside your door.
They have done what they can,
to give us a few minutes more.
They tell us, that this is it - the end,
and to say our final goodbyes.
I am the first to rush into the room,
and be next to you by your side.
I don't know how conscious you are,
since your soul was ready to leave.
Whispering in your ear "I love you",
and "it's okay, go home and be free".
Embracing you as if roles reversed,
I smooth your hair, so lovingly.
Knowing that any second could be the last,
until you depart this world completely.
Scrutinizing your face, for every detail,
while you take each laboured breath.
Watching you slip away from the light,
and pass slowly into your death.
Then the dreaded moment arrives,
and your soul has now departed.
My blanket of strength is gone,
and I am left broken hearted.
Through all that happened that day,
I am haunted by the uncertainty.
Not by the efforts made to save you,
but by now knowing absolutely.
When I told you I love you -
did you know it was me saying it?
When you said I love you back -
did you know it was me you said it to?
