Death & Grief: Human Void Walking

Who are the dead, how do they interact? Individuals whom you see walking around the stout face, solemn lifeless eyes, staring through your skin. Glance at their passing, expression hardens the lines around the jaw.

Traumatic memories that distort and darken visions of the world. The expression permeating the body, tight muscles creating a hunched posture, Lack of a single fluid movement only abrupt restive gestures when made to interact with the living.

Silly jokesters create a new gravity pulling all that is falling up. The dead culture rise to silence the cacophony. Mob of living is jovial with life experiencing each hurdle, storm with the gaiety that only comes from a power greater than self.

Death faced people envy society, refusing to stay in the grave- they meet in a storms tale in the Arabian sea. Rumors of war were in the wind. They walk and wander absently.

Crystalline seas dampen the air. The sunken forgotten rusted memories of past rise out the cavernous sea. The once serene jokesters now clutch to rambunctious nature of past.

Death begins to take its toll; grief is fighting to take away the happy memories. Aura of nothingness so potent it threatens to seep into the very narrow of bone.

Bid myself of those debilitating emotions that hold me hostage? The world seemed somehow fresh and renewed. It’s quiet. And peaceful. Not like anywhere I’ve been. Who are the dead and where did they go?

- Xavier