Standing Next to Death

Swirling winds around me

Lifts my hair in front of my face

So the only thing I can see

Are traces of who I was

Before this unnatural storm.

Rain starts hitting my shoulders

As I stand to reap

What, apparently, I deserve.

Tears get lost in the raindrops

Because there is no reaching out

For the proud

And downtrodden.

They begin screaming at me

In languages and dialects

I don’t understand.

Promising to take their wine,

If only they promised

The death would be quick.

But that was too easy,

Nobody wanted death

But me.

Once I was standing next to death

Here, in the oracles office

With the wind trying to rip me apart,

The rain trying to drown me,

Voices trying to break me down

Yet nothing wins

When nothing remains.