The last transmission.
In Heaven you will wake again.
Your ******* will flee and your eyes will close.
Demora the shadow will fall.
The light will cloak and strengthen you.
Your sleep will not stay.
Greet each other with pockets overflowing.
I am woken from my sleep.
Every oil shed of your skin.
A stench to remind those of all forgotten.
Destroy the monument.
To the fallen.
Require no payment.
With this silence in my head.
An observation may run free.
In and out.
With pressure.
Never.
without.

Six hours ago my bones stopped stirring.
And now they scarcely ache.