| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Death >> ID #961168 |
| |||||||||||||
|
Death is a dream that you don't remember,
flickering seamlessly on the edge of memory. So vivid one moment, only to drift into oblivion without notice. Life's details, real or imagined, are all but forgotten... slowly faded to black, until you can see the coming light. An eternal slumber finally reaching its end.
© Copyright 2005 Mark C Bradley (UN: auric at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Mark C Bradley has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |