Who drives me along, as the core softens. The pure flesh riddled with thorns, sick all the time. The settling silence surrounds. People believe that forever will never come, but it does. Eager in anticipation to make your acquaintance, but not to much more for subtilty. Not rude, but very much direct in its final approach. Departing on the night flight, as the light leaves my eyes. Cover me well in my passing, let my memory be bold, but don’t let it linger, as my death is not done. As sure as the rising sun casts its shadow, I will not be forgotten in the light of the sun.
– Josh Fleming
Inspired by and a few words randomly taken from: The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart
Image by: Samantha Keely Smith