Death, on the Psyche.

Has been known,
Was sensed,
Is coming,
Is near,

Time has come and that soul has to depart from its corporeal abode. Death is what it longed for ever since and at that particular moment, the yearning – that ultimate desire – has turned out to be intensifying… growing... and soon exploding. It is what the soul anticipates in moments of deep contemplations, to begin its voyage in the after life. There, it will certainly be better-off. There, moments are surely of bliss.

Pain is what that soul feels in every error committed, in every frustration willfully let to happen, in every imperfection sensed. Coward, are the soul’s responses. Insignificant, inexistent it has become. It has no place in a physical world where everything rests on superficial grounds. It felt solitary.

Isolated.

That soul did not who to trust and who to turn to. It is not aware of the abode where it really belonged. It did not know of any place to call its own, still searching and seeking. Yet, what appeared before that soul’s visual senses is every man’s final destination - tanathos.

That soul believed that every other soul, which has touched and became part of its being, has a life to live. At a point in time when all other else are engaged with several tasks and occupied with varying thoughts – preparing for the future and creating niche – that soul did not want to be a burden – even for a moment.

And it never wanted to. In fact, that soul keeps everything to itself. It did not let any one come inside it – to that distant part where the real, the true resides. It did not let any one permeate and mirror the barely noticeable – the imperceptible. It is completely afraid. Scared of endless possibilities.

Yet, that soul weeps in solitary anguish. It seeks, and searches; yearns to be heard by someone. It whimpers for some one to listen – to just listen intently to its innermost and deepest angst. It seeks to be understood; comforted, much more, for the soul reaches out finding its place and seeking security.

No one hears its voiceless uproar. Nobody heeds to its silent calling. The dilemma still lingers; and it has to end. And when it does, that soul dreams When all else failed, and the moment comes… it has to depart.

It has to depart!