Born Dead

He did not bleed. There was no pain… nothing could be felt. It felt like a free fall, a free fall into oblivion. It was as if nothing mattered anymore… nothing. The thoughts went numb; there was no beginning … no end. It all just seemed to engulf infinity. It just pierced into him, and he felt indifferent. And a dark, a deep dark took form in his heart and began to come out; he could feel himself drowning into it. And there were countless faces-tears on the cheeks-all falling into the dark abyss. He had never seen them, and yet he knew them all. He knew they were crying for him, crying for themselves, crying for… And there he saw her, falling in the endless abyss, the dark destined fall. He went out to her and held her hand. It was warm … motherly. He touched her, in a hope to wipe her tears, but the tears were dry, cold. In the moment when he looked into her eyes, he felt as if he had found and lost his destiny. In that moment, he had lived his life and died. In that moment, he had laughed and cried. In that moment, he had hated and loved. In that moment … the moment he treasured.

And yet he held her hand, with a belief, a hope that not all was lost. She was there with him … always. But on the sands of life, a fate had been etched and nothing could change now.

 

A deep and heart wrenching wail … he had lived for a moment … the moment of his death and yet, the moment he had lived was worthy and fulfilling, calm and untouched. Was it a fate he had chosen, was he born dead.

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