The Last Battle

The Last Battle


If it should be, that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do, what must be done?
For the last battle cannot be won.

You will be sad, I understand,
But don't let grief, then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship, must stand the test.

We have had so many happy years,
When the time comes, hold back your fears
You wouldn't want me to suffer so,
Please, won't you please, let me go?

Take me where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me until the end
And hold me close and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.

Don't grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We've been so close, we two, these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

— Author Unknown

This poem reminds me of my grandfather and the last battle he fought with the sickness he had. I can't help but cry when I read this poem.