Race against the Twilight

 In the Race Against the Twilight

In the twilight's grasp, a race unfolds,

A dying man, tales untold.

Dreams, like whispers, etched in his mind,

Now spill as verses, to the world unbind.

Words long kept within his mind 

Now find solace, on paper aligned 

A pilot once soared in the skies above 

Grounded by illness like a frail dove 

Once soared the skies, a pilot bold,

Now grounded by fate, his story untold.

His wings clipped by illness's cold embrace,

His yearning heart in a final race.

Pen meets paper, his soul's resound,

Verses and dreams, in rhythms found.

Each word a flight, an escape from pain,

A legacy woven in ink's refrain.

Above all dreams, one beckons high,

To soar again, to touch the sky.

Where clouds embrace, and winds conspire,

In soaring dance, heart's true desire.

In this race with Time, he sets the pace,

To leave behind his cherished trace.

Last words for his Sun and Moon, his beloved son 

To guide their paths, his favorite ones 

In each verse penned, his love takes flight,

For Sun and Moon, his guiding light.

In twilight's grace, he bids goodbye,

His dreams in ink, his spirit will fly.

With each fleeting moment, he pens his tale

Chasing dreams, unfinished sail 

Pages filled with his heart whispered cries 

Each word a fervent attempt to touch the sky 

As the race winds down, his spirit unfurls 

His dreams shimmer like his golden curls 

With wings of words, he transcends the pain 

In the race against time, his dreams unfulfilled remain 

Maxwell O’Reilly