Denial of Death

I enter, while to the left a whisper of dust blows into the path of a column of light. The right is filled with the good intentions of well-meaning dandelions that beckon for brown eyes to look. But my path is fixed, conviction is iron and my paces are measured precisely.

I am entered, while to the left a flicker of light tells of a love that feels for me. The right is filled with good intentions of well-meaning friends that respect my brown eyed gaze. But my path is fixed, conviction is iron and my heart's paces are measured precisely.

I fill the entrance, while to the left a feeling of horror belies the realization that is dawning. The right is filled with good intentions of my well-meaning denials that blocked my brown eyes from looking. But my path is fixed, conviction is iron and the denial of my death is measured precisely.

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