The Half-Life

Standing knee deep in fresh fallen snow,

I contemplated the sunset even though –

Night was approaching as darkness overtook the horizon.

Here I stood, wondering how you’d look like, all wizen.

Frozen at 26 years of age,

You were too young to realize that you would cause such an outrage.

Alas, time does heal;

However, it does not cure the raw emotions that we are left to feel.

In death, you leave everything you own behind.

The memory of you remains entwined

with those you left among the wake –

Burdened breathing souls cursed with a permanent ache.

I stay a little longer as the breeze blows.

The snows cold nipping at my toes.

I am relishing the feeling – the brisk cold.

That’s the trick in society; we must fit in a mold.

But people aren’t designed in such a way –

Our lives are but meshes of intertwined shades of grey.

Anything is better than feeling nothing at all

– being senseless and numb like a hollow doll.

I savour each breath –

Knowing no one can escape death.

Absorbing the stale winter scenery;

Blaming our decisions on derisory.