As he laid in death, he had a single thought. At this very moment that he was bleeding out, another out in the world must have the same exact feeling. Fear. But when the fear passed, the pain was gone. He felt relief, he came to realize he wasn't alone in dying. He wasn't ever alone in anything. The last breath left him and he passed away, but to his surprise all the weight lifted from his body, and he began to float. He looked to his left and to his right and caught glimpse of another close by. Then another appeared, and another. All of these beings he had never met in life, humans, and animals both spoke to him. Told him their stories and wonders of love and life, how beautiful it was. Their lives had ended, but they remembered they had planned this all along. Before they had names and stories. This anxiously awaited thought to be cold embrace, turned out to be as warm as an ember you could grasp in your hand.
The next moment he awoke in bed from this beautiful dream, but was it really?

The devil once told me of  a queen spider, how the title had little to show for in the midst of time and change. It explained to me that no matter who or what you are, there will always be change.
To give rise to that explanation, the queen died the very next day.

Bury me adrift, leave me remembering that even after I’m gone, the universe will go on. That you will go on, my darling little universe.

She did not keep the peace, was not the conformist in silence, was not a normal person. She was the rebellious martyr filled with centuries upon centuries of the world's anger and trash. She did not yield for a rule, never  stormed for the greater good of currency, and was born to die. But of course, not before she recieved what she thrived for.

A kindling at bay, a linking uncertain. Even though the flame was not lit, it was not dead.

A will of written beauty, only visible to truly wholehearted. The wonders in his eyes seen through words, the atrocities witnessed.
He always asked if these words would last forever.

A falling star dropped across the face of the beautiful night sky , and a question arose. Would this star's light disappear, or live on for the ages?
Though, the answers had not laid in the eyes of this beholder, but only in the suns surrounded.

Throughout the years, death became foreign. He always exclaimed to her he would live forever, that way she'd never slightly be in sight of sorrow. But as each of them aged, his promise seemed unreal.
   Yet, as he lay atop his death bed, he did not apologize. Instead, he only spoke the words,"I love you".
And he did not lie.

Truth behold, truth behold. Two lover's souls were left afloat.
Truth be told, truth be told. The creek had never been as cold. Time froze, a portrait of pause.
And as the lovers dried themselves, they wondered when a moment would ever leave as beautifully again.

He stood there and wondered, could this really be it. The hell he so long feared. He was content as he gazed at the planes of his own torture, he laughed. As regardless of everything the devil itself had taken so much time on, it did not matter. He would become a fiend, and someday his tortured soul would reside nowhere. Therefore, his hell would become his long awaited heaven.

More than beautiful. Godly, enough to drive a man blind and send him to something deeper than a physical perspective.
Enough to drive a man to live forever.

Without purpose, what is another minute or hour. Any incognitive being would reply with a shrug, or maybe an,”I don’t know”, but what would you reply with? Perhaps you would say that no being without purpose can not find one, or maybe you wouldn’t. Although, who am I to say. What is another minute or hour attempting to figure it out?

A frolicking being, with no rules or distortion. A god of their own playpen, but regardless, mortal. But does an immortal being surpass a mortal in any other sense than time? Who’s to say.

He slept tonight dreaming of a world so beautiful and wonderfully crafted. Yet when he awoke, the comparison of the one he loved he could not fathom. This dream was unbelievable, but of course, this dream was only feeble to him as he awoke to her voice.

The crystalline water, so clear and so calming. A wash so deeply needed, a cleaning of my sins and hardships. An ocean of wonders and ravishings, a vagabond at last had found his dear home.

Enough is never truly enough, is it?
Something is always there, always keeping you awake at night.
You don't believe in yourself. You hold everything so dearly in your arms out of fear of losing them, and you don't understand what you are or how or why something would stick around to help find out.
But I want you to know, you are an inspiration.
Let me tell you, there isn't a one object in this universe that cannot prove to be inspiring in anyway. This world was meant to keep you alive, all you must do is take what you were given.
I plea that you will always choose to remember these words when you are at a loss for hope.
We are not here to judge one another, we are here to inspire.
And you my dear, you are my muse.

Worry was the name of the ones she loved. Ever since she was young, her eyes always gazed at her loved ones, even from a distance. She never stopped watching, and they imagined it was only her job, but it wasn’t. It was her gift.
Her name was protection, and she loved them very much.