Poetry

When the time comes

Stone.
Body like a stone.
Heavy like a stone.

Consciousness,
at the edge of wakefulness,
at the edge of awareness,
at the edge of perception.

At the edge of comprehension,
when there is no way back,
when one can’t wake up and live,
when the way leads just to falling asleep.

The door is getting closed
to be opened
when the time comes.

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