Gilded, soft, and white.
Oh so utterly white you are.
Oh so blinding.
So still one so readily compares you with death.
Signifies you with empty tree branches and fading nature.
Identifies you with purple fingers and toes and crystalized breath...
that even the non-smokers understand that feeling of crisp inhale.
Oh so beautiful you are.
The sleep of life.
Not death, just rest.
For everything beautiful remains beautiful,
but everything beautiful cannot always remain beautifully the same.
