Of Existence

There will be a time when your soul will be crossing the troposphere,
Forsaking the land where you breathe now;
Like skydivers in reverse.
And you will have wings for hands,
Drifting far away from the war zone that you were born into,
Jiving to the rhythm of the wind.

So spill the words storming inside you
While the light in your eyes is still un-faded,
And the bones of your rib cage are still unbroken.
Let them glide down-
Like an avalanche
Through the quiet mountains.
Cover everything.
Let the silence know that you exist
As fiercely as possible.

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