Expressionism . . . The Unknown


I feel time's expression
within the wounded beats
of my heart's fading rhythm
there is no exhilaration
no rejoicing
in my near lifeless soul
merely the act of struggling to breath
as I lie here
racing towards the end of this journey

Faint breaths
fight
the battle that is surely to end
with one last sigh
from the depths of my failing lungs
I cry
not because this will be
my last memory
I cry
simply because I am
afraid

I am not ready
yet there is this unbearable cold
coursing through my veins
that feels like the wind during winter's season
that is pushing me
closer
and closer
I shiver
wondering if
praying that
the layers
and layers of thoughts
I carry with me
will keep me warm
as I transition
to the unknown

Pretty good Mig..You seem to capture something there..

Thank you very much