The Final Tale

Vita in ligno moritur: infernus et mors lugens spoliatur. (Life dies upon the tree: hell and death, mourning, are robbed of their prey.) — from the ancient intercessions used in the Dominican Rite

Shalom, sinister shadows of the dark
The ship is the color of lavender now
A terrible sign of demise
The downfall of a soul
Alive but no longer living
Breathing but no longer anywhere
Not knowing what to do
One speculation remains…
What do you wear to your own funeral?

Death came with twilight on that murky day
Joined the lost spirits that couldn’t return,
adrift aimlessly and disoriented
For a few seconds, loud thunder reminded you of Christ
Christus factus est pro nobis obediens usque ad mortem
Christ for our sake became obedient unto death
Unwillingly forced to enter the final submission
Fate, duty, agreement, compliance…
Then… what do you do after that?



I guess the dying observe all the vows
Whether they want to or not
Embrace death and its deprivations,
day by day…
In conformity to the Father’s wish
Or was it out of our own free will?
Or was it really out of love?
For whose salvation this time?
Is it really how faith is measured?

Shalom, sinister shadows of the dark
The ship is the color of lavender now
Joining the lost spirits that can’t return
We may never be praised with Him,
before whom every knee must bend
Unsure why desire has such negative connotation,
let’s take this fate anyway… in obedience…
One speculation remains…
What do you say at your own funeral?

The last page
The final tale
It’s done.