PART 2

 

PART 2

Some say it’s the spirit of faith that lives on, I assert it's the foundation of acceptance that breathes us. “The web of anguish created for the fourth,” He mumbled. That second the pain reached its culmination, without thinking he just sticks out his dry cracked hand for the nylon rope. Someone will say he had eczema, but it was just the wounds from the Mopane tree. The skin of the drying can feel when a spirit is about to meet the ones at serenity, many souls are called upon by the graveyards every moment, but yet have a lot to offer. Sometimes hope dies and we die with it. We all don't want to perish; some just want to end the misery within, but if only they had their druther. The smoke from the cigarette was still cloudy his sight, but that didn't matter, the man was willing to craft his death. Ashes to ashes they say maybe that's what the cigarette embers highlighted, the man was one step from hopping from his yore. The untold tale of a man about to act his fourth suicidal attempt, he counted his steps off the stone and that was his last memory. Anyway the paradox of his death laid on the ant-eaten branch of the mopane tree, the rest is history. what if we are all called to death, and we do have a choice at the end but the light ahead is way better than what earth has to offer?