Sometimes death can be an involuntary mistake,
an accident or misunderstanding. Not many people
understand the true meaning, the fact that these people
cannot live forever, that their time has come. When mankind
enters death, it's a world of paradise. a world of freedom, but
sometimes the sins to get there are not always the best. In
fact, there are many signs of death, other than stillness, or the
absence of a heartbeat.
Death can be seen. It is the blur of a bullet, or the flash of a knife.
it is the fall of a blood stained creature, a creature that once felt,
once lived through hardships, and struggled through life. Death
can be seen in a flat line, in the wrinkles of a kind face, or even
in cruel jealousy. It can be as small as the sands of time, or something
that could of been prevented, like a murder, or a blackened heart.
But it is the absence of breath, the shudder of the heart as it fades
that we see, and not how it became.
Death can be heard. It is the crack of a revolver, the unsheathing of a
sword, the shriek of the victim, or the thud of a body. It can be as loud
as an earthquake, or as quiet as a drop of blood, but yet, it is still there.
There for the witness, there for the RCMP, there for anybody who can
hear it. But do we listen? Of course not.
Death is felt. it is felt in a heartbreak, the loss of a loved one. it is felt as
the news is spread, as the memories flood, and the tears will fall. The victim
feels it too. He feels the sharpness of the stab, the impact of the gunshot,
the splatter of innocent blood, and the hardness of the ground. He feels the
virus as it spreads, the surge of the electricity, or the lick of the fire. Finally,
he feels the sorrow, as his heart gives up, he takes his last breath, and he
loses everything and everyone hes ever known or loved. I believe though, that
the sorrow lifts, as he unfolds his new wings and takes flight up into the
unknown.
Death has a scent. The scent of smoke, of ash, of dust as the remains of a
building crumbles. it is the scent of blood stained hands, of the salty tears
that follow a death. It is the scent of poverty, as the effects will linger. Of the
salty air as a cremated body is tossed over the ocean, or the smell of decay.
as a buried body slowly dissolves. It is only there to those who will accept it,
but yet, it is still there.
Death has a taste. it is the taste of a thousand year old wine, or of toxic fumes
as they invade your nostrils and flood your throat and mouth. It is the taste of
ammonia, of marijuana, or of nicotine and tobacco products. Death can have a
taste, but it doesn't have to. If death can be tasted, it can be prevented.
When mankind enters death, he enters his dreams. he enters a free world, a
world that is of heart. A world where people are airborne, and can soar through
the clouds, or possibly a place of heat and flames. It can be a reward to some,
or a punishment to others. If you are involved in a death, would you rather be victim,
or murderer? What adventure lies beyond the world of the living? Its your choice.
You choose whether you enter a world of paradise, or whether you enter a world
of hatred. The next time you are caught in a death, think: will this murder result
in heaven, or in a flame?
