there’s a thin sheet of brittle ice

between this world and oblivion

you walk it so gracefully

how could such soft stepping

violate the integrity of this cold barrier?

and yet this life was meant for living

what kind of breath can you draw?

your corporeal form waxing weaker

like a shadow blending slowly into darkness

as the sun begins her westward descent

how long can you walk such a fine line

and not surrender to night?

–

I weep for you

your smile so bright

but your bones are so weak

I see the light dimming in beautiful eyes

a massive burden hoisted bravely on shoulders

never designed or intended for this

a crushing weight of the inevitable ending

when the credits will roll and our eyes will be wet

and yet you will manage such impeccable grace

frame by frame until the curtain is drawn

and everything fades to beautiful black

a worn and fragile frame corrupted

a paper-thin cage to a spirit infinitely strong

a soul that could take the heavens by storm

–

a little oxygen

a few more moments for the synapses to fire

tissue and tendons contracting, relaxing

contracting, relaxing

each sense, sincerely acute

conscious of the last drops of dopamine

surging through from top to bottom

the tingling as the crescendo approaches

but you are not afraid

time is just a number on a mechanical face

and you are eternal

the cage of flesh expires

as the sleep starts to finally take you

you can rest your head now

you can close your eyes

a little oxygen

a few more moments for the synapses to fire

tissue and tendons contracting, relaxing

contracting, relaxing

contracting, relaxing

relaxing,

relaxing,

fin.

  ~j.d.schofield