The Long Race

Straining hard,
Every breath torture on failing lungs,
Sweat beading on furrowed brow,
Heart, a pounding sledgehammer for the ears,
Eyes fighting darkening tunnels,
Only five minutes more,
Then four, three…
Twelve breaths per minute,
Thirty six masochistic moments,
Chest filled with napalm,
Arms and legs spasm,
Stomach knotting,
Face bloodless and feral with tenacity
Two minutes, one…
He could coast now,
But determination grips hard,
Dragging air in, wheezing it out again,
His final stubborn moment.

There, it’s time; he’s reached his goal,
One hundred years of life,
He stops the struggle,
Finishes his race,
Light fading from intense eyes,
Final beat beaten,
Last breath and sighed words,
“Happy birthday.”