The Smoke of darkness

I stand beneath, down by the logs, where the smoke and fog surround me and stretch beyond limits to greet the sky. It is a beautiful sight as I am engulfed in blue and white. I realize, the mask of survival is shivering and withering off gently. The Winter outside of me is cold. The road is filled with leaves and snow. Here I stay, impeaching the goodness that made Death the emperor of life. I see the cruel mace, marching towards me. I shall be long gone before the people approach me. I see everything burning to extinction. I know that this is the minute of sparkling darkness. The living darkness is gone. It is bright again. My soul flies virile through the grandeur of the smoke I see; my pen and the last words of inspiration are fading into the ash.