What If She’s Dying?

And what if she’s dying?
What if everything you stood
and stand for falls
with her?

You couldn’t stand to understand
The pain which plans to emulate
Itself when the words are read
And said “she’s gone”.

Lights out, without
No doubt about it,
That’s it, doubtless, dead,
No turning back to ask.

Am I tasked with this thought
Brought out by darker nights
Is it right to question
Morals becoming me?

And what if she’s better,
Whether I’ll be better,
And gathering myself,
I stand to face this fact.

For what now of man,
if he cannot understand,
His betterment and growth,
In this wake?

Am I to enclosed in grief,
To speak too soon,
And meet with my own
Selfish will?

Am I the one who’s ill,
But still find pilled patients,
To worry about health,
In self I should be cared?

Do I dare to think so selfishly,
And carelessly of a woman
I have loved
Unconditiionally?

Is it better to be,
Chained inside of me,
This feeling breeds
Uncontrollably.

It is too dark to tell,
And some are still
Under spell of lies,
But try me not.

Eoghan Lyng is an Irish man, who has written from Cork, Madrid and Prague. Currently residing in Glasgow, Lyng continues to refine his work. Aided with the ability to write in English and Gaeilge, examples of his work have been published in Vada Magazine, From The LightHouse, An Gael-IrisLeabhar Idirnaisiúnta and his eponymous wordpress account.