The Ballad of Death

Ah, no! I have never been able to share your cynicism and your gruesome and senseless irony; not me! I never celebrated birthdays! For heaven’s sake! I know well that birth is the leading cause of death.

I do not like death! Do you like death? You Celebrate it! So help yourself!

Here she comes! Death comes! Do you see death? She arrived so far, death, for all of us! We will, in a dance, be dragged into nothing. It does not matter what you believed in.

Where do the muscles of the athlete who stop training go? Into nothing! And there we will soon end up, entirely! All and suddenly!

She overlooks the city as a huge storm cloud, wrapped in her leaden cloak of darkness. There is not even a ray of sunshine, look.

Her bony hands stretch, creaking with the sound of thunder, on us, to grab us in unison, in an inauspicious moment of fear and agony.

We will all die, we will die together! The Earth will be empty of stupid.

Do you see her with her own eyes without orbits from the sky peering down at here, all of us still so busy. She laughs silently stretching all the teeth of her skull, apparently mocking!

Look at her! Do not you see it? Her huge scythe shining even without the glare of the sun, like an infinite moon made of diamond.

Do you really not see it? Not in your feverish and cold, sore, sticky meninges?

No one escapes its impeccable edge, it reaps so easily! It severs all neatly, no one escapes! None of us will be saved.

We will be taken, yes, we will soon be taken! Everyone in his own gesture, truncated in half. The words never said!

Someone in their sleep, someone embraced, burned and covered with ashes of the volcano, or in the bathroom with dysentery, while charging the clock gear, or while counting his coins, in solitude sitting at the table with the candle, the flagon and a dash of wine, and also at the ATM, at the park, at work, at the pier, with the gun, or the rope in his hand.

Here is death, without eyes, she is without eyes and with his grin, for us. Do you feel as nauseous? Do you feel seasick? It is the plague! Or it is only the fear perhaps.

Eh, you! Where are you going stupid? Eh! Where do you go to the bushes, trough the fields? Trying to hide among the tall corn plants and sunflowers: sweaty and trembling she will grab you! She will grab you anyway and only more tired, ugly, gasping.

Do you think you are really capable of escaping? Where to get away? She arrives everywhere, everybody knows! And you are running toward her, you idiot! Eh! You’ll soon hear her approach the sinister and metallic breath, made of large “vuuu” of her blade that saws through everything, and that will also end your race.

Where are you running, you wretch? Come here, maybe we can hug, drink, love each other, what do we have to care about now? We should have done all this always and now it’s too late, and what’s more we have to do it with the anguish in our hearts.

Leave your fears, though! They have no sense! Death is here with us! She has come, do you not see her? You do not see the disease? The plague, the Ebola, the accident, the evil, the shot, the war, the sudden fall and every pretext. There is nothing to do!

But yes! Leave the vessel overloaded by your tedious principles to sink silently in the dark waters of the port to which you have moored it decades ago. Death comes! Death comes! What do you do now?

Ah! No! It does not matter if you have not finished what you started yet! It does not matter if you need even one second more to finish it!

She will cut your head in half and truncate the pen that is writing on the sheet the sentence of your unfinished poem. And every wrong choice, and every wise choice.

She does not care at all if you have work commitments! If you have contracts and orders to be observed, if the performances of the company are not finished, if your colleagues can not replace you!

They will go on without you, you’ll see! Oh no, you will not!

Small children you say? I do not think you have, but they also will go on! Or die with you. No! She does not care!

Liar! You lie to death? To death without a face?

You say that you want to pay your debts? That you need more time for your honor? Liar! The fear assails you! And that’s it! But the end will not be delayed even for you!

Be brave! You die!

Death comes, the death, hooded, and she will not leave anyone in the world when this much work is done. Prost! And happy birthday!

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