The Fading

[douglas]

He was taken to the silent, barren place
Where a gilded mirror was held up to his face
So that he could examine the fading

High brittle cheek bones
Lips with a waning blush
And translucent skin losing its luminescence

A decomposing visage framed by silver hair
A temporary creature
Midway upon the inevitable
Journey all must face

And on windy nights when he lay alone
Caressing the fading fragility of his physicality
Contemplating the Great Transition
He was eerily confronted
By the mournful songs
Of the Angels of Transience
Shape-shifting and flickering faintly
Above him
Like ghost lightning

And he would think:

My life is out of time
Down here on Earth
Within my heart there rests a persistent full moon
My spirit is as a vampire
Feeding off my blood
Gradually causing my body
To wither and decay
And one day
I shall entirely fall away

We are all creatures destined to die
Despite the witchcraft we try to conjure

The pink rose blooms and crumbles
The white candle always turns black
And we can never take our words or actions back