Member-only story
The Paradox of Endings
From Verdant Bays to Fading Days
Death stands before me today,
Like waking after a lingering fray,
As if fleeing to a verdant bay,
After lands have withered, turned to gray.
In its shadow, the world seems askew,
Brightness dims, vibrant colors fewer and few,
The vibrant tapestry of life loses its hue,
Only silhouettes remain, old memories anew.
Death stands, a bitter scent it wears,
Yet akin to sitting ‘neath sails that air bears,
Winds pleasant and kind, with few cares,
A paradox of emotions, a maze of snares.
Echoes of the past, whispers of despair,
In its looming presence, nothing seems fair,
Yet amidst the bleakness, a rare solitaire,
A glimmer of beauty, in death’s icy glare.
Death stands before me, so bold,
Like a river’s torrent, fierce and cold,
Yet as a warrior, stories of battles retold,
Returning home, his tales unfold.
