Fuse

When a battery corrodes it leaks but life, life slow burns, nothing leaks out until the energy explodes. Peaceful and violent death may come but inner death is a birthing it cycles and recycles many times a slow burn until that womb you hide and carry from one dark node to another that too explodes. Then the light shovels you out one smoldering organ at a time until you are full of a hollow grace, then you can take your leave, and die in the world shucked from flesh-stealing time, but the surprise is in the fuse (it always is), that will bring you wide-eyed to an afterlife as if its length had not stuttered or spluttered for one instant since the thought of you existed.