Suppose there were birds in the form of death,
And they could hear you dream.
Imagine they could manipulate your mind,
Tease the senses,
And stir your livelihood so violently,
You question the concept of life itself.
Now in a state so abstract,
See yourself with wings,
With feathers and flight,
Now watch yourself fall,
Past the clouds,
The sun,
The stars,
The very earth itself.
Feel the wind whip past every cell,
Every pore,
Every hint of sweat,
Every salty trail of tears,
Every drop of spit,
Everything you've ever thought,
Feel it shake the bonds of synthesis,
And shatter them like your every hope and dream.
If you can muster,
See darkness with open eyes,
Watch life like water,
Boiling,
Evaporating,
Disappearing,
Ceasing to exist,
And put your face where others have lost theirs.
Now you have an inkling,
To the life of birds,
Of whom death is their flight.