To Fall When Time Is Cut Short
Life is a silly thought sometimes,
Leading you on a leash,
proding you with jokes and teases,
Some worse than others.
Its funny how we don't take in mind how thin the leash is,
How worn the tethers are,
How quickly it could all come to end.
Life is like an eternal mountain range,
Something you have heard before,
But for some,
Its shorter than they could ever see.
It taunts with a peak,
But the ground is unstable,
The shaking unfelt by any toes.
Until,
It cracks,
Sending the unfortunate soul down,
Down into a sinkhole unknown,
Deeper than any pond can go.
This dark abyss,
This consuming hole,
Is known as one thing, and one thing only.
Something even the most hopeful can't escape from.
Death,
The leash undone,
The light far gone,
The final step in a twisted process.
A thing no one can predict,
Something so unmerciful,
It scares us.
For when the ones die young,
When a small light is effortlessly squished,
We cry in anguish at our weakness,
Our helplessness.
Though this message is not to weave fear or sadness,
For all things come to an end.
Even if falling feels like time has stopped,
You will find the bottom of the sinkhole.
It has to be dark before it can be bright,
Enveloped by a bed of feathers,
Drifting into the beyond,
Welcomed by a thousand hugs,
All familiar to the bone.
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