With these last few heartbeats I'd breathe her breath
And find within her essence a soul to share,
Lost in the final moments before paradise
I could dream of no better measure of air
And as the moment peels in tow
I look back upon my life revealing,
The certain sort of sacred fold
Between the seams of a courage yielding
Like a flag; old and worn which has seen better days
I can't help but assess myself in the same way,
Yet I know this isn't near the truth combined
Why can't it be true within the depths of the mind?
That every moment suffered is another tear
Another shift in the fabric of the flag laid bare,
As age comes to claim the mind and the hand
We are left with the experience that it shares
In that conceptual light the subtlety is solemn
That with every breath we take the Reaper is calling,
And it is only every breath that continues life
A conquest for the end, a beginning for the falling
A macabre notion could not keep calm
My furious devotion to right and wrong,
My love is an ocean coalesced in song
A wonder of the thunder of every psalm
A holy notion bows to treason
That love can kill it's keepers
A twist of irony decidedly-
Ties her and me with the Reaper
The only question left to ask
In these final moments of breath:
Who is she who'd so cleave to me,
Until the very days of our death?
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