Taking that last breath

Photograph by Jason Hill

Everything stops
Everything grows cold
The presence of death
Among us all.

What is it like, on the other side?
Is there such things
As a narrow path,
Or a guiding light?
Is it true, or is it all lies?

You’re now on the other side.

You’re here and there
Defying the Laws,
Defying the hopes,
Defying the prayers,
Of crying souls.

Tears run down many faces,
Water drops fall as nature cries.
Everything stops.
Everything grows cold.
The presence of death is
Among us all.

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