Is it over

Is it over

When will we know

As the veil is drawn

The light already faded

The mist a pearly white

Shadows hunting for purpose

A lamp in the window

Flickers and dies

Darkness eats into afterglow

Until there is nothing

To remember

But the smell of hot wax

The rustle of cotton

Frayed on the bottom

Of a curtain

Spinning

In the draft from a broken pane

Echoed

In tired lungs

Fluttering with every breath,

Breathing is habitual

Until the effort

Taken is greater

Than the reward

When will time come

Full circle

Will we ever know

As white sheets are wound

Tight over still sweating skin

The illusion of movement

The expectation

Of response

The hollow of silence

Between every

Palsied breath

Extended beyond

All reasonable doubt

A paralysis of logic

That carries on

Until the lie is nailed

There is nothing left

To remember

As the world grows cold,

But goodbye.