Golden Light Was Poured Into My Eye,
As It Enveloped My Shaking Fingers.
It Wrapped Around My Hoarse Voice,
As Though It Were An Elegant Scarf,
Keeping Me From The Cold.
The Light Found Itself Inside Of Me,
Sweeping Away The Dust Of Despair;
Ridding Me Of The Shadows Lurking
Behind My Heart.
Beams Poured Into My Mind,
Slicing Through The Grime And Grit
Of The Moments Which Chose To
So Selfishly Define Me.
Colors Emerged From My Parted Lips,
The Hues Which Have Been Treasured
Memories Of Autumn And Evenings.
A Metamorphosis Had Occured.
I Materialized From A Gray Husk
With Brilliant, Shimmering Wings.
I Am Radiant.
I Am Jubilant.
I Am Reborn.
When Someone Passes, They Are Reborn Into Something More Beautiful Than We Can Comprehend.
