The Final Phase

The Final Phase.

It begins with listening

To the breaths of the witnesses,

Their tears pooling in the darkness.

It makes itself known with a roar,

Ending with the loss of time gone by.

The echoes of life caress you,

Leaving their imprint on every second past

Reminding the eyes of what will come.

The sights follow swiftly on,

Remembering as the hand ticks away,

Mimicking the lights as they dance above.

Witnessing the passing of the hours,

As dawn drags ever closer to the break

And only the sun comforts those who gathered.

The ashes of time scatter into the wind,

Only the wishes of mourners remain.

The ashes settle on your tongue,

Burning every bud, crawling into each pore.

The air is dull with despair, every crevice,

Every crack is suffocated and consumed.

It clings with fervour, desperation,

As each swallow leaves fresh tears in its wake.

Contracting muscles choke any tangible hope

Of speaking with the clarity your heart needs.

The smells come now,

Overwhelming the in between

With scents of the lost and the grievers.

Attempted shadows cloud the waves

With clusters of pollen hung in the air,

Leaving behind notes of sympathy

Sewn amongst the masks of hidden fury.

As it fades it is only a blessing

Leaving only one last touch.

It shall be the final loss,

Laying its head against yours

Caressing you into the sleepless void.

The remains of the day lie unmoving,

Cushioning your fall into the abyss

Leaving the cries of the living behind you

As you are led into the arms of the reaper -

Senseless.