Transformation
-Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Senile, Fragile
The old man struggled with his nervously useless last breath
And
Yields.
Accompanied by insignificant drops of tears
Always unnoticeably present with the passage of “time”
He goes away too
Miraculously shrinking, rotting and decaying
And
“Eventually” blends in with the rest of the wise drool dusts
Transforming to almost frightening
Subtly dark and sane flowers
Impatient to invade
And conquer those stepping her upon the foolishly stupid “ground”
Yes, I am, in all “contradicting” frustration
Announcing my impurity as human flesh.
His helpless soul is hopefully gone
To the Godly realm,
Where, divinely, with ecstasy, unknown, sets all the earthly rules with ease
And without necessity