The Final Nightfall

By Michael Deegan

He lay frozen,

Not quite dead, yet not quite living.

IV drip flows in,

Easing the pain, unforgiving.

The disease has the body now, spirit trapped inside.

I commune with his ghost, a last chance to confide.

As I held his gnarled hand,

I felt a squeeze.

His eyes opened and scanned,

They fell onto me.

A sign of recognition, my cheeks wet with tears,

He knows what happens next, I cannot assuage his fears.

So there he lay,

Not quite living, yet not quite dead.

Body in decay,

Rotting on the hospital bed.

I said my goodbye, and now wait for the call

When his spirit is free, the final nightfall.