And Death Will Lose.
Category:Creative Writing,Death and Dying,Inspiration,Poetry,Writing
Life. Death.
I wrestle with this a lot these days.
Especially the death part.
And not out of morbid curiosity.
I try not to ask what if.
What if it has all been in vain?
I want someone to tell me,
tell me it’s going to be okay.
No one has done that yet,
or have they?
Then one day, the call comes.
She fought a brave battle.
And your heart sinks.
The pain. The confusion.
That fear you carry inside…
you cannot see it,
you cannot touch it,
and sometimes you cannot even name it.
But you know it is there.
You stumble in the dark
through a maze of broken glass,
each turn, each step,
more painful than the last.
We try to help each other:
whispered collections of jumbled thoughts,
fragments of comfort,
meaningless words.
I think.
I hope.
I pray.
Maybe I can wear it down,
this albatross of affliction,
this specter of death.
Even its name makes my skin crawl.
And still I stand here,
on this precipice of death and dying,
trying to understand,
trying to find some peace.
But would I change it?
Would I press pause, rewind,
or even delete?
Would I wipe it all away:
the memories,
her memory,
her love,
my pain?
If I were granted that power,
right here, right now,
would I do it?
No.
I would not.
I could not.
I would rather choose the pain
than lose all those memories;
the knowing,
the having,
the loving.
And therein lies the secret
of who wins this race,
this David and Goliath
of life and death,
of fear and faith.
Because if you choose love,
even while you are hurting,
then death will lose.
© 2026 Judith Mallard
