Oct 24

All Around Me

There is death all around me
in the walls, in the rooms,
in the breaths of the silent,
in the blood of their wounds.

It grows faster than time
and thicker than mold,
like the flicker of a windchime
as their hearts turn cold.

I hear it buzzing in my ears,
an icy fire lit with glass.
I hear them crying in the darkness,
the darkness in the past.

I pity them and myself,
for the death that we will see.
I await the ashes on the shelf
and the future we will be.
About the Author: Michmich