Falling From The Windows

10 seconds,
before your breakfast is interrupted
by the fireball from below.
10 seconds,
to make a decision.
The last decision you’ll ever make.
Die on your terms.
Or die on Death’s.
10 seconds,
to make a decision.
The restaurant explodes,
ejecting people from the room.
People falling from the windows.
Falling from The Windows.
The world outside watches.
Faces shattered, and soaked by the tears
falling from their windows.
10 seconds.
Is now 5.
You make the decision now,
while you’re still alive.
It is dignity,
disguised as desperation.
It is grace,
masked as helplessness.
It is freedom,
recognized as foolishness.
10 seconds, again.
The amount of time you are afforded in Nirvana.
The amount of time in which your body, and mind,
are placed in limbo,
before the darkness sets in.
10 seconds.
It isn’t much, from up so high.
10 seconds.
In which to realise you’re going to die.
10 seconds.
Of just falling through the sky.
10 seconds.
Of watching the world pass by.
10 seconds.
In which you finally know
what its like to fly.

by Dan Brown

Other poems of BROWN (351)

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