Some people just wither away,
like autumn leaves
While some still have that spark of fire,
like fiery embers
Some never get to see the light
at the end of the tunnel
While some never realise,
there is a tunnel
Some are like winter,
silent, aloof and withdrawn
with curtains closed and socks on
While some are like spring,
Bright orange and full of life
And then there are some,
stuck in transition of life to death,
colorless, disconnected and numb,
Lost in the woods for eternity
Trapped in a maze of unconsciousness
Like comatose,
they disappear into oblivion