A Transition

Claustrophobic is the word. The strangulation of the throat, the breathlessness, the agony. Every moment feels like a lifetime. The pain pierces the body into the heart. Each cell shivers with the thought of the next. Suddenly, darkness dawns in. This is the end. I somehow know, this must be it. But no, I am not there yet. Death felt like such a shimmer of hope. Alas, it wasn’t to be. With half-closed pupils, I still see the world with blurred eyes awaiting the moment. Awaiting something. I am stuck between two pathways – hanging from a cliff. I fear loosening my grip and yet holding on is extremely painful. The two worlds seem far apart. Yet, I hope they coincide. Somewhere, within me, I hope for a smooth transition. It can’t be this abrupt. It doesn’t seem right. Communication sometimes is the key but here, I miserably fail to speak out. I hope for a stroke of magic and I don’t let the hope die. It is the only thing which pulls me along every moment of the darkness.

And in the far away distance, I see a flicker of light growing larger, more beautiful, approaching me. I guess the time has come. And a lullaby sings on its own accord somewhere in my heart. I am going to sleep now. Forever. And gradually, beautifully, I do it. I breathe my last.