Death
In the twilight's fading whisper, a solitary road unfurls,
A path unwinding, shrouded in mystery, where love and loss entwine like vines around the heart.
One way, no escorts, no turning back, no gentle hands to hold,
Just the echoes of memories, a lonely heartbeat, and the silence that remains.
It takes us unawares, this thief of moments, this reaper of dreams,
No warnings, no farewells, just the sudden jolt, the severed thread,
A pain that shatters, like the first cry of birth, yet infinitely more profound,
For in its depths lies the abyss of nevermore, a chasm that swallows hope.
No calendars mark its arrival, no clocks foretell its knock,
A stealthy intruder, claiming all, heedless of wealth or station, rank or name.
Rich and poor, it levels all, a universal reckoning,
Leaving naught but echoes, whispers of what once was, what could have been.
The severance is brutal, the grief a crushing weight,
The not knowing, the unseeing, the unheard heartbeat of a loved one's face,
The messages unsent, the words unspoken, the love unshared,
The communication severed, like a lifeline snapped, leaving only desolation.
When body and soul disengage, what remains?
A fleeting shadow, a wais coat left behind,
Questions swirl, a maelstrom of anguish, "Why? When? How?"
Yet the answers lie beyond the clouds, in realms unseen, unknowable.
In this life, we walk the edge of shadows, precarious, fragile,
Each breath a gift, each moment a treasure, though we seldom see.
And when the thread unravels, and our time is done,
May the love we shared, the memories we forged, be the solace that remains, the light that guides us home.
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