Mortality is shown to the seer not by choice.
Beckoning and urging the light moves forward till the bodily silhouette vanishes to the unseen eye.
Commence a walk through the misted valley where death lies and mortality meets its fate.
A cold headstone of realization and an eerie but silenced feel of quiet reckonings may only greet the living .
Collective thoughts and spoken words gather from a breath that departs midair from the mouth of a warm vessel.
To resist time and attempt to stall death will serve a better servant who lies down waiting for nature's grand finale.
In due haste I will close my eyes surrendering to the light that will forever become my demise.
A rested death I am granted.
For when the time comes, I will greet mortality. With arm in arm , I shall usher her to the door.
