SLOWLY DYING

a skull with human eyes

staring into the dark

as life slowly fades

a face etched with lines

of every breath

and heartbeat

knowing each birth

is the beginning

of dying

yet it holds on

to the beauty

of its own

inevitable end

**The Fragility of Life and the Beauty of Dying**

Life is a fragile thing. From the moment we take our first breath, we are walking toward an end we cannot escape. It's a truth that lingers beneath every heartbeat, a quiet whisper that reminds us how temporary our time here truly is. Yet, within this fragility, there is beauty —

a profound, bittersweet beauty that comes from knowing we are finite.

We often see death as something to be feared, a looming shadow that steals the light. But what if we could see it differently? What if we could hold onto the idea that, even as life slowly fades, there is beauty in the end we are destined for?

We live in a world obsessed with longevity, with the idea of stretching our lives as far as we can. But in doing so, we forget that it's not about how long we live, but how fully. Each line etched on our faces, each mark of time, is a testament to the life we’ve lived, the breaths we’ve taken, the experiences we’ve carried. We are all slowly dying, but we are also alive —right here, right now.

There is something deeply poetic in the idea that every birth is the beginning of dying. It’s a dark thought, yes, but also a powerful one. Knowing that time is limited can push us to embrace the moments we have, to see the beauty in the ordinary, and to find meaning in the fleeting. We hold on to life not because we fear death, but because life, in all its imperfections and struggles, is something to be cherished.

We cannot stop the inevitable, but we can choose how we face it. We can live in fear, or we can embrace the idea that our end is a part of the journey. In the darkness of life’s fragility, there is a light — a soft glow that comes from knowing we have the power to shape the story between our first breath and our last.

It’s not the end that defines us, but everything we do before it. There is beauty in the cracks, in the slow fading of life, in the understanding that we are not meant to last forever. Instead, we are meant to live with the awareness that this journey, no matter how short or long, is ours to hold onto and cherish. And that, in itself, is a kind of freedom.