the slow art of breathing bitter

Before I Leave

Life's moving slowly—

Towards the abyss,

The abyss I have been told not to go too close to,

The abyss I was made to look away from,

And now, this brief ray's looking for it.

My breath's turning shallow—

I need some light upon my cheeks, my eyes, my heart.

I need to unfold my wings now,

This locked room's so torturous:

I need to breathe the fresh air.

The last sunset of my life;

And then the dense night—for the last time:

With the stars, without you—alone!

The bright moonlight now cuddling in the cold corridor,

the blank flames of my heart.

This night will hear my last collective breathes—

Up and down, distressed, void.

And finally, I will go,

leaving you aside.

I will end all those spurious glamors and smiles,

the rumors and laughter,

And finally, leave.

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A/N: What about some quick votes before everyone dies?