herodog909

What is it that you see when you think of death? Do you see the black ethereal night, periodically illuminated by bolts and thunder? Perhaps you see an inferno consuming the corpse or rain moistening the ground in which the body decomposes sin by sin? I do not see autumn and I do not see torrential floods, rather, an overcast mid day, so still and calm that solely footsteps and echoes break the silence of the earth. This stillness is the boredom of death, of lying and waiting to live again in the memories of meaning. It is in these moments that I become aware of my death, aware that dedication will not save me from my inevitable fall. One day