the shadow was standing next to him, his name was fear, and with him were his brothers, pain, anger and desperation.
They were standing next to the bed on which lay what once was a man but now was not more than a carcass, not yet rotting, but with the last spark of live dying down steadily. The illness has carved out the body from the inside, with a blunt tool of furious torture, leaving a tired heart, pumping acid blood through burning veins, wrapped in bruised and wrinkled skin.
And as the moment feared and yearned for was approaching, he asked the shadow to come closer, to embrace him in his final instance, he pulled him closer, as his body started shivering and shaking, as the endmost riot of tormenting excruciating dolor slashed down on him, his bony finger grabbing the cold and bleak blanket of darkness, begging for comfort begging for warmth, for a last touch of someone, a last kiss, a last glimpse of compassion, a last feeling of a tear shed in grief for him falling on his face.

the dry, fragile flesh of his lips opened to let pass what was meant to be a fatal cry. Yet all that could be heard was a croaking moan, shallow and weak.

the body sank into the blankets, letting out the last fluids that were held captive, a cacophony of alarms started and was soon stopped by a medic, noting the time of death on a sheet of paper and calling the nurses for clean up. and soon this bed will be the cradle of someone else, only the shadows remain..


Posted: November 10th, 2009
Categories: txt.
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