Grief.

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by Simbathewitchdoctor

by Simbathewitchdoctor

Grief.
It's inevitable.
The denial of someone who has lost more then they could imagine. The feeling of a false truth that you will refuse to accept.

The boiling of your blood that'll make your face red. The feeling of black, hot enough to burn the flesh to muscle and the muscle to bone and the bone to Ash.

The feeling of your heart being dried out by a never-ending week. A shot through the start I'm bouncing around the shell of your rigamortis induced cadaver you call a heart.

Then at the end, you accepted. That fate cannot be avoided. You and everyone will perish one day.

Can your heart take it?