There is something wholly good with falling.
It gives a certain closure which can be found nowhere else.
The wind cradles you in its arms
Too weak to stop your journey.
The earth pulls you in claiming you as its own.
And when you stop, in that single second you think briefly whether you should have done that.
But with your organs failing, one can never regret a thing.
Preferring to put it down to experience, yet this time there is no second chance.
The pain is minutely eased by the idea that all will be well soon.
That the tortures of the flesh would gone and your spirit freed.
Only one thing could ruin the perfect moment of bliss and agony.
The beat of a drum, growing stronger again.