Death of the Breathing
I witnessed death today
And it was quite beautiful.
I saw the orchids unveil themselves from the tips of their existence.
I heard the delicacy of the wind
Churning throughout the vacantly filled space
Ensuring its existence was illustrious.
I noted a cinereal sky
Not dismal, but luminous.
An amalgamation of ashen colored clouds
Being blown in either direction
But trekking eagerly.
Three dead men whisper secrets.
Granting the wind permission
To relay their feelings to the clouds
The lost souls look up
To see the clouds speak
Only to get lost
In the heights of the sky
The depths of the air
Getting pushed by the wind.
Yearning for a life they already live
Dreaming of a life they once had
Craving a life they think is living.
Only to become the death of the breathing.