Literature
The Slumber of Forever
When I wake up and smell the coffee, the past haunts me.
Like the chill of cold winter, death creeps on us all, stalking and sitting at the edge of the table. Slowly, the table starts to turn, and he gets closer.
The closer he gets, the brighter the light at the table gets, when the light of your life gets the brightest it could get, death shakes your hand.
You have no choice now but to go with the punches of death, and slip into the big sleep.
It is a continuous pattern, the better your life is, the closer to death you get.
Is it fate playing with your heart strings?
You will never know, until you soon fall into the slumber of death.