To the Living...

Ti's another day, today, and the morrow shall for most spin directionally apportioned while filled with an emotional sundry of cause, effect and action therein. I stayed, perhaps, a bit too long aside the polished onyx box and peered into the seemingly vacant space occupied by a being removed from mortality while questions simmered amid a most infuriated mind. Indeed I stood in trespass to a moment benign feeding upon the fragile and near perfect exchange of God into man's final rest; where methodically and in reverence we are not to seek query into or about human-kind and his passive finality. Still I am drawn nearer that estranged shell, hands folded throughout,
remaining unmoved and somewhat hypnotic until physically re-introduced to the reason for attending such a celestial send-off in the first place.
The hours ran forward and the mass dismissed, respects laid before the surviving and the departed alike yet I sat in silent witness for reasons queer, still, today. I waited for an interaction between the dead and maybe his dead dispatched, I yearned favor as one allocated sacred or divine
alliance to mediate a passing, dispassionate and perhaps distant, yet the soul or spirit sown alas. The lights were eliminated, the head-board closed and still I sat unnoticed, good-night!
As daylight emptied into the lacy veil and morning repelled any further search for sleep or displaced delay I collected the evidence to my callous intrusion reviewing the dreary data one final time. The dead wander not, meander nor mimic those of life, or cast foolish defamation's as the living their selfish disregard; In death no witness need review; In death, the dead, to those still living are forever estranged and far superior. Good day!

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