J.D. Isip

I would like to be like you in my final hour
To let the old electric impulse spring
My tired carcass in one last show of power –
O Death, where is your victory? O Death, where is your sting?

To let the old electric impulse spring
And flower the path towards fate –
O Death, where is your victory? O Death, where is your sting?
Proserpina, knowing, causes Doom to wait

And flower the path towards fate
By pouncing at the life that, unobserving, strays!
Proserpina, knowing, causes Doom to wait
(She also pines and longs for those younger days)

By pouncing at the life that, unobserving, strays,
Death will surely overtake, but never truly kill.
She also pines and longs for those younger days
But my mother, unlike you, is stolid, cold, and still.

Death will surely overtake, but never truly kill
Those who leave sweet memories to flower
But my mother, unlike you, is stolid, cold, and still…
I would like to be like you in my final hour.