I have met Death.
Good fellow, I can tell you that. Not a dark, shadow-robbed thief, or coldblooded murderer that those homosapiens perceive. But a warm transcendent light. No gender, no age, no voice, no colour, no judgement.
Death is a warm embrace in a winter snow storm. A trusty umbrella in a torrent of rain. A cool pool during the summer heat. The smell of smores on a wooden fire. The feeling of home.
Death is the embodiment of love. Love of family, of friends, of children, of pets, of lovers. Death feels like that because it is a certainty. Someone that will always be by your side and will never leave you. Even when you are alive, they are there for all you accomplishments. Cheering for you every step of the way.
Because, even though humans only see Death when they die, Death wants you to live your life to it's fullest potential. So you are proud of what you have left behind.
Death will always there, waiting to listen to your story.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Bodies
General FictionI have met Death. But I am not an acquaintance. I know what love is. But I have not felt it. I know what passion is. But I have not embraced it. You tell me I have no life. But that is because I am yet to live. You say I am not human. Tell that to...
