Sometimes we feel,
When death is upon us
His claws already etching
A screenplay of the life we lived,
On the shell of our skin
Which shields
the whiff of our already festering souls,
From those feigning love around us

It’s not a gust of wind that warns us,
But the emptiness,
The vanishing of that sliver of hope
Keeping our heads above water;
The merciless tears, the sobs
That threaten to open the flood gates
So entirely...
That our insides rush out with any sudden gasp for air

It’s the absence of hope;
The indifference that paints itself like a
Mask on our faces,
Never stirring,
even in our state of vulnerability
We are lost to ourselves,
And to all who can still see
what’s left of us.

Love is but a declaration of falsity.
We cannot be loved.
Born to die with calloused hearts
Hearts that beat too hard and fast,
For love that will never step out of the shadows of our minds

And as our melody of sighs and groans, finally comes to an abrupt end
For a millisecond,

We see the light again.

~ZA