The Mirror

The night is silent, a ringing in my ears
Remnants of a pulse echoing throughout walls, paper-thin
My hands are shaking, yours are ice-cold
There is blood beneath your fingernails, pooled; trapped where life once rung free

The eyes are shut, the face is pallid
A silent void where once they stared,
For life has abandoned this shell
And now the only sound that lingers
Is the slow, dull tick and clatter
Of the old clock above, marking seconds gone by

The skin is frail, the feet are swollen
Blotched and rancid; hues of purple and green
The tongue has ballooned, a grizzly reminder
That where life once stood, now does its mirror image

The hair is matted and tangled, clinging
To cheeks that droop, no longer pliable
But the eyes still hold traces
Of a familiar expression,
As though they're frozen in that moment
In time of agony and pain

But the lips are still parted,
A half-smile that curls
As though still trying
To hold onto the hope of hallucination
That soon they'll awaken
And it'll be just a memory.
But the heart knows the truth
And the blood pools on the floor
The room that once was a sanctuary now just a distant echo
And the clock on the wall continues to tick on

But the heart was clogged, arteries giving way
Organs wheezing, lungs pooled like soup
The crash was inevitable, though a memory painted tender lips:
A grandson, a hope, gone - alone

The body has gone cold, and the room is quiet
Only the clock ticking, a hollow chorus
That echoes throughout this space
The final moments of life - marked
The end of a chapter.
The final seconds pass,
There is a brief silence -
Before a final gasp of breath
And the eyes open and blink, once,
As though waking from a dream,
As though waking to a memory
And time continues,
Unaware.