“The divine”,
“This physical nothing”, he spoke in a lifeless voice,
Sparing nothing in the last attempt at fate,
Wishing as I glanced upon a star,
The last scarlet tear released,
Dipping from my lash, slowly making its way through the stroke of death,
Hitting its peak from the very existence it spawned, “drip”, he said,
* There is nothing left *, as I pushed my hand through the air, creating a silent stroke sound,
The very inspiration of life, dying out slowly, muffled in the face of reality,
Once limitless, boundless fields of light, glaring into my soul,
Now only pointless reading of finely printed lines,
Covering the true meaning with effortless details,
Pulling the cold rough trigger that once held so much potential,
“I am one with God!”, he gasped,
As the realization flooded my being,
My cold heart just stopped…
