Sense twirled like whisps of smoke.
So often have I walked this path blindly,
Wracked by pain and conflicting thought.

And when I begged death to consume me,
I lay among warm grass, waiting for it's unbearable weight

And felt the warmth of the air
As soothing as the breeze cooling my aching lungs.

And indeed, the path I took here
Was littered with roses and thorns.
While the skies wept from lavender clouds to the west
And twinkled constelations to the east;

And directly above me the sun and moon
caught in their forever-dance.

The grass is warm,
the fragrance of the wind's breath
laced with bleached flowers and deep forest orchids.

I hear a brook plinking in the distance.

So often I have walked this path blindly,
wracked with pain and conflicting thought.

And as death descended,
Sense danced as gracefully as smoke --

dazzled, at last, by the world
I was leaving behind.