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Death 3



First, dark.
But the dark is only the entrance.
As dark is to light, death is to darkness.
Empty, if empty had only one extremity.
Unknowable as the unimaginable.
I can't see it.

Then, a nullity that's never known the innovation of a birth.
The intrusion.  Never a tourist, never a migrant.
What is when nothing is.  What isn't when nothing is.
It's on everyone's itinerary, and no one makes it.
The most exotic destination,
and I'll never see it.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.