Dying As We Lived Poem by Patti Masterman

Did I, did we die the way we lived,
did I adopt your vices, your branding
of things uncertain, as contaminated;
not worth doing at all?

In the end, did I become you,
and you become as powerless as I once was,
one long ago childhood?
I never wanted suffering for you.

I feared losing you as soon as I learned
that death is a thing, a noun to be feared,
a cloak of nothingness that finally covers us all.
For I knew reality can be merciless.

But you should understand, that I did not let go of you
willingly. And that you still die daily,
and that I must keep on letting go, each day-
until there is nothing left to hold on to.

Our last gift is to release others, and in that way,
maintain freedom of a sort.
It will never be a victory though.