He smelled of subtle sweetness, mixed with strong spice,
his bones creaked and ached of old age,
he looked creased and crumpled, like old parchment.
Each line on his face, a year of life lived,
and every spot and freckle adorning his skin, a moment in time,
they were medals earned and battles fought.
His voice a clear dissonance, crisp and powerful,
even in his late years of life.
The colour of his eyes, rich and deep, conveying so much life.
But even such striking figures do not live forever.
And as his breath faded into the air,
the light in his eyes dimmed, and the colour faded in his skin.
The years caught up to him in passing,
this once larger than life figure, lay weak and frail.
Everyone looks smaller in death, some more peaceful too.
The news wasn’t shocking, he had been bedridden for a long time.
Yet through everything, he was still alive, a whole human,
complete and alight, with laughter and sadness both.
Death hits everyone differently, each circumstance different,
and while next to no one deserves death, it is always emotional.
That this soul who once roamed the earth,
They no longer exist so physically.
While not every death is a tragic mystery or murder,
they are always a time for mourning and soft sorrow.
A time to reflect on the deceased,
the life they live and the impact they had.