Answer, but speak quietly. The opening is beginning. The dance will start soon. The fluttering of the wings. The broken, hidden mishaps form into a spectacle on the center of the stage. No longer a child. He cries, gripping to the fading of his youth. Unspeakable features tend with age, shapely fingers, and large frames for glass cover once bright, and innocent round blue eyes. Clinging clothes keep the body warm. Cooling temperatures, the body slowly fading into a resonance of remembrance. Just remember the blue. The cold, welcoming blue. It heightens thought and breaks hearts. The thought keeps the mood light, but all know what lingers, just a step away, just an ignorant nurse, just a distracted driver, just a spark of light. Just. Fragile, in all ways. So afraid. So scared. We don't want to die, but we don't want to live forever. Stuck in limbo. Did I live right? Did I make use of what I was given? Should I have? Will I? Did I?
Just a moment, that's it. Then all things fade.
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