Void

Cold, numb, pale
Silence weavered within him
He started counting
trying hard to keep his gaze alive.

Empty words.
Blunt voids.
All of it.

The cool zephyr blowed
caressing his skin
but neither did it felt spring
nor the indication of a harsh monsoon arrival.
Rather a slow syncing sunset of a dead evening
And few sobbing goodbyes, some fake and some sincere.

For the first time, they pleaded him to speak.
After all the denied speech of his scorched throat.

He breathed out the terror
too profound for words
Realizing he was done, he is alive
but dead for the world
for anyone who ever cared.

He is laid in a casket
put down under the ground
with only darkness around him
but that isn’t something new
He was long gone even before they
laid the shroud upon him,
and the only diffrence now is,
I see him being included in prayers
of those whose love never reached him as a whole.

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