Life is best precieved
Not in death
But in the dying...
The leaves falling
Rather than the branches bare
The dew freezing
Rather than the frost
Coated in snow
The cool winds crisp yet damp
Rather than frost-bitten.
Life is best painted
On the the tapestry of dying
Than the portrait of a barren land
After the wake of death
Two sides of the same mask
A kiss to eternity
Or the end.
Observe
The rising of ice
The dying of season
The coming of slumber...
Time moving backwards.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
Life is best precieved
Not in death
But in the dying...
The leaves falling
Rather than the branches bare
The dew freezing
Rather than the frost
Coated in snow
The cool winds crisp yet damp
Rather than frost-bitten.
Life is best painted
On the the tapestry of dying
Than the portrait of a barren land
After the wake of death
Two sides of the same mask
A kiss to eternity
Or the end.
Observe
The rising of ice
The dying of season
The coming of slumber...
Time moving backwards.