The vulture's wicked eyes awaits for his flesh
He is ready
Withered
All rotten but still breathing
Almost numb
Lying in this bed of ice
Searing his heart like fire
The darkness veiled
his room of fragrant memories of her
Now bound to oblivion
He reached out his hands
trying to catch the dust of his past
But he can only manage a twitch in his fingers
All he can do is savor
This perfume of her that still lingers
Like a waterfall
His tears fell for his dear flower
Then a sharp pain in his chest and a whisper
Inaudible but he felt it was real
His eyes wander
He catches his last breath
His lids close in reconciliation
Whilst he heard wings that flutter
The pain cuts to black
The heavens accepted his submission
Then
He's back
Like a dip in the water
A renewed soul
He never felt better
Pitch black as the skies
Unfamiliar but he felt home
A silhouette shines from afar
like the radiance of the day
A sight almost blinding
but he can't refuse the invitation
The garden bloomed like the spring
with all the archangels' salutations
And when this silken hands held him
they emitted all the colors
Now he remembers her saying
"I'll be seeing you my love."
In his death bed
All the while
She was waiting



-Death Bed, Margaret Austin Go