Nancy L. Meek

THE POWER OF THE WILL

Though willing to die, I continue to breathe;
therefore I lie, and I don’t want to leave;
but why can’t I stop and simply drop dead,
and end these thoughts invading my head?

Who’s really in charge of all that I do
if I can’t even cause my lips to turn blue?
What power-at-large has made me this way,
granting me life just to take it away?

It seems rather cruel to give me a will
that bows to my lungs as they empty and fill.
Though breathing today, one day I will not;
my will over such will be less than I’ve got.

The same truth applies to the blood in my veins,
my heart and my organs and other remains
‘til they haul me away in a slow-moving hearse…
the will of one greater, for better or worse.