The last match didn't light at the first strike. Though he's grateful it didn't break, he was somehow impatient as he stood at the brink of what seemed to be the edge of his breath. It must be the wind...

...Fallen angels
can never fly
when they choose
to fall
Heavens do forgive
but
do they forget?

...He saw the glimpse as if it was a moment of a dewdrop dreaming to be with a morning jasmine. The scent was beautiful but he could only hope to see it more clearly. His head had grown heavy...

...define a thunder
by the lightning
and see
the teardrops
leaving the cry
it gets lighter
in the end...

...The last traces of smoke had long gone. He wonders about the things they see when they reach the heavens. Maybe there are no answers. But then again, who knows? He had to let go...

...But
when it fades
before it can be felt, before
it turns into a meaning
then hope will
abandon
the sleeping
man...