The frail beauty of fading breath,
enfeebled in a languid gaze.
The failing sting of numbing agony,
suspended in a moment of conclusion.

Faint feelings forlorn, forsaken
fade in a soft, silent, slipping soul.
Your misty, damp, eye vapour,
for a musty, dark eventuality.

Oh!

Do you see the tunnel?
Do you see the light?
Do you see your carcass?
Do you see His face?

Look!
Six feet,
Drawing near,
Drawing fear,
Flashes of panic!
Schizophrenic synapse!
Oh! Doubt, Thomas ,Doubt!
For judgment beckons!

Ashes, dust, mortal aftermath.
Is this Zion or the nether?

No,
it is naught.

Yes,
it is naught.

Inspired by the departing of loved ones

A consciousness torn by thoughts and opposites
where we ape what is not us
where we are what they want us to be
an imitation of a perceived life
a longing for greener pastures
healing for the cowardly timidness
of a behemoth that lurks within
shackled, chained, bound
by a thought, a flaw
of perception
deceptive, disguised, invisible
an intangible existence that is masked, but
hope there is...
maybe.
Unclothe that which lurks
and feed it the truth
for it shall set you free.

Inspired by You