Simple Death

Where there was an aura of life now
it descends into emptiness.
A husk of wishes that lay rotting in an
empty cavity, maggots consume thoughts.
We are but a sheet that showed our life's
struggles, but now it is like ash on bone.

Complex Death**

My Breath is the stench of a departed
moment yet this husk still expires yearnings.
Desiring the inevitable but the tread is taut
not frayed as one would petition in haste.
My pain is versed on this carcass of flesh
that needs to evaporate into echoes of yesterday.