dear departed

Things end.
That’s just how it is.

Holding on.
Weak arms as always.
Gravity mocking
The body’s betrayal,
Taking first
The trickle of red
Involuntarily given
Of fingers white.

The heart escapes
Beneath the gut.
Vacating the house
Where he once lived.

Vacant for Demolition.
The balance is off.

Hope steadily dimming.
Resolve depleted.

Think not. Feel not.
Let go now.
It’s just an end.
Life does go on.

Shameful arms
Surrender feebly.
The descent begins.
No ground below.
Limbs flailing
To scrambled instructions
In this unending free fall.

But
Things end.
That’s just how it is.

This ends.