• Ayesha Patel

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

Floating diligently.

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.


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