To My Grandmother

“I’m not afraid to die,” calmly you said,
As we braved the cold to fight your disease;
Your mind had seemed to be always at ease,
When thinking of meeting loved ones long dead.

“I used to be beautiful,” as tears shed,
You sighed, as cruel illness worsened your wheeze;
Yet no greater beauty, to one who sees,
Was your kind soul, even on your last bed.

We thought, cancer-free, it ended, your strife;
But perhaps you wanted to depart here;
You deserved a hero’s death, and no other,
From how you had lived a so selfless life,
And I’ll not fear when I think, when death’s near,
To see you again, my dear grandmother.