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The Final Ritual
In my mind's eye,
I can see tears pouring down
like rain into a vast ocean.
I can hear sirens wailing
alongside my heartbeat failing.
I can see petals of broken hearts
and crystal tears falling
on the fine rich compost
underneath which I will abide,
rolled up in a fold of seasons
of the earth's warm breathe
and monsoon—
darkness railing the ceiling.
As wired nylon grazed over my flesh,
the eventitude of this epiphany
became reflective of the snow-white flakes of foam whitewashing the walls—
as is the first ritual at birth
and the final at death.
~ Fey
© Fey
I can see tears pouring down
like rain into a vast ocean.
I can hear sirens wailing
alongside my heartbeat failing.
I can see petals of broken hearts
and crystal tears falling
on the fine rich compost
underneath which I will abide,
rolled up in a fold of seasons
of the earth's warm breathe
and monsoon—
darkness railing the ceiling.
As wired nylon grazed over my flesh,
the eventitude of this epiphany
became reflective of the snow-white flakes of foam whitewashing the walls—
as is the first ritual at birth
and the final at death.
~ Fey
© Fey
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