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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1826664
The death of a man who once lived.
THE FINAL BREATH

_________________________


V. 1.1 (2011)


As darkness begins to shroud both my eyes and my mind,
        I see only a mirage, the memories of bright days.
Yet such memories remain only memories,
          and with them my mind fades as well.
Luminous feelings blind me from life’s arid face,
               --caring voices surrounding me now lay silent.
Regret swells within my longing heart,
                  poisoned by toxic sadness.
Purpose now turns its youthful back upon me,
                    and my parched lips yearn for more water.
Whispers of the past hush up my thoughts;
                        and as blissful Death ebbs through my veins,
                            the river of dreams flows once again.
                                I draw a final breath of old life
                                                      And the soft whispers
                                                            Can no longer be
                                                                              Heard.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



As darkness begins to shroud both my eyes and my mind,
        I see only a mirage, the memories of bright days.
Yet such memories remain only memories,
          and with them my mind fades as well.
(snippets I erased from last edit just in case)
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