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Continuing Death

Poetry By: raven banks

it's sort of more a question than a poem but it sounds kind of poetic. Continuing Death asks the reader where everything goes, what the end is and how life goes on. To the core, it is a peom about death and what happens after that.

Submitted:Oct 26, 2012    Reads: 15    Comments: 5    Likes: 1   

Gawping, swirling, deathly hole, falling end on eerie end. Sorrowful twisting, heartrending cries, echoing, unending. Twisting, falling death. End on end tumbling. Tearing in the centre somewhere inside, feeling is gone, heart is now empty. Impending and impossible. Breath is gone, voice is lost, life is over, but death continues to tumble. Endless, echoing, falling… falling…falling…

If everything is falling and time is meaningless, what is the end? Could there be an end? Do thoughts fade out and spirits fall forever, never seeing, never feeling. Always falling, damned to the depths, numbed and tortured. Can there ever really be a permanent delete? What happens to the memories and the thoughts, where does it all go if falling forever, no end, no relief? What once was made can be unmade, but gone… What if?

Can intimate thoughts end and true images fall, can everything fade and disappear? But if everything disappears, what happens, how can it all go? Where will it be found? Still forever falling… falling… falling…

Impending doom and cries of the newly dead, heart cold and distant, still. Hurting and tearing, zealously longing and failing, unable to flee. Thoughts are scattered and lost… but gone? Can anything ever be gone? Can things really die forever? Faded away and drifting in winds of the breathe of weary dead. Gone and lost, but truly, really gone?

Is it really possible, can it happen?

You is no one, us is nothing. Just another fallen, broken. Never ever to be pulled back up, never to breathe, never to see or feel. Again and over, over again. Nothing changing. Hurting. Tearing. Mind-numbing cold. Ending but still there. Numb but still knowing. All terminally lost but still falling… falling… falling…

Hammering and pounding, moaning voicelessly. No one to hear, no one to see but those weary and broken. Soon to be gone, somewhere? Maybe? Hurting and pulling at stands lost in hell. Heart locked away somewhere, no one will tell. Feeling and numbness become all the same. But can anyone, really, truly…

… drift away?


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