It dawns on me at midnight,
The paradox of it all.
The whispered shouts of His great might;
He's been the answer--all along!
My childhood wasted on paper dolls,
Sitting in pews, not listening at all.
How the message slipped by me--
Stomping, shouting, noisily--loudly!
Oh, what strength I could have had,
Had I just listened to what was said!
Oh the Love I could have known
If I'd understood what Strength wasn't my own.
All along, He's been reaching down;
All along, if I'd looked up--I'd have found!
I get it, now--your constant smiles.
I get it, now--your confidence, wild.
There is nothing in death but nothingness;
There is everything in life; granted forgiveness. 
So when they come to tell me you've gone,
Gone breath, gone soul; dead body, dead bones.
I smile myself, feeling it stretch a mile wide.
"No, good sirs. He's never been more alive."

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Characters
Narrator
An unnamed young person (either male or female--it matters not) sharing a hospital room with "you," the other inhabitant. Has a different disease and mentality, preferring to die and succumb to his/her illness rather than go on living.

"You"/Audience
Another unnamed young person (male--sorry, ladies); the one who shares the room with the narrator. Has the more serious illness--an unnamed type that is attacking his lungs and respiratory system. Quite different from the narrator, has a passion for living.

updated Feb 7 by KrisseyCrystal