Death and Life

Life and Death

Death is only the begining,
except for when it is the end. And
nothing tastes the same not even
the tender juice of that sweet apple.
You find yourself with soaked muddy feet
walking at the edge of the dark forest, staring
into the empty abyss, waiting for something but
seeing nothing. You walk amoung the disshelved
leaves and broken branches when you realize
they once were beautiful just like you.
It fades like everything else.
Then you fall on the muddy floor
and see a single white rose in bloom.
You inhale the blissful smell
and you accept it, for what it is.