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I shiver, feeling the thick and I move closer, feeling the dried leaves The prison of flesh and blood that
moist mud filling out the spaces between my fingers carefully. I smooth out holds us will melt away like candle wax,
between my toes with each step their curved edges gently, feeling the ever- becoming a burgeoning ecosystem for

I take as the plants reach out to evident bump of their veiny textures as I the beetles and the bugs, the critters, and
brush past my calves. I inhale the did so. the birds– It will be their kingdom for the
rich, intoxicating scent of rain and taking.

grass, the scent pumping through The Narcissus flower that used to hold
my veins and filling my lungs. The its head up with such pride and elegance– Soon, the decay will gradually fade
lush leaves of old trees sway along much like how its human counterpart out like the wisp of a dancing flame in the
the wind in greeting, and I smile did– is now dipping its head in shame and wind with time.
back at them. forlornness.

Then, it will be the moss and fungi
It’s a quiet day in the forest, The honey-golden petals which that thrive upon their new home, nuzzling
I think to myself with a hum. The resembled the soft silk of sunlight that it themselves into every curve and edge of

nymphs must be out playing again– was once so prideful of, have now become our exposed vertebrae, before snuggling
or messing about with the humans, wrinkled and shoddy. The alluring hue into the narrow gaps and cracks of the
their second favorite pastime. that was once the envy of the others, is yellowing calcium. The foliage will
The fae have been complaining now washed out and muted, a depressing accept us as one of their own, curling
about the withering flowers in air now looming over the flower that had and wrapping us up with their bodies in

their territories. After a series of lost its glory. a welcoming act of acceptance. All while
sickeningly sweet veiled threats, the earth takes in the shell of what once
I am inclined to take care of the As I pick their frail and withered was a living, breathing life into their warm,

matter before they carry through bodies from the bushes, I sing their praises gentle embrace filled with eternal comfort,
with their promises of violence. to them in a whisper, as if I were telling every trace of stardust and iron in our
tales of Greek gods and goddesses. veins will be reclaimed by the soil then.
As I enter their domain,
What is beauty without
Nature works in funny ways I can
the shift in the air is faint, barely
Memento noticeable– but it’s there. Vague impermanence? never fathom. As even in death and
decay, there exists flourishing life within,
silhouettes
tiny
of
shadows
mori, dash about in my peripheral, as Life is designed by nature to have blooming and growing like unyielding
wildflowers– the beautiful symphony
mischievous chimes and jingles of
my dear. bells ring out softly from all around death be inevitable to us all– we are bound that is mortality in death, and death in
to it regardless of how fate strings our story
mortality.
me.
together.
Written by Kuan Ker Zhi It was obvious when I had When the maggots and worms However, that is what allows us to

reached where I was needed. Among burrow into the remains of what once was cherish, to appreciate all we have, to hold
a field of teeming wild nature filled a majestic stag, standing tall and proud our heads up high like a flower that only
with dense and luscious nature– with its pristine coat of fur, and the antlers has less than a moon to taste the sweet

splotches of muddy colors scattered that sat atop its head like a crown, befitting nectar that is life.
throughout the bushes corrupt the of royalty– Is it not, we as living beings, all
picture-perfect scene, sticking out
Illustration by Kuan Ker Zhi end our journey at death?
like a sore thumb.
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