What imprint would your body leave

     as flesh decays - frozen mid-breath?

What story would your life whisper

     if ashes rained - world paused mid-death?

Life-shaped holes speck this phantom night,

soon filled with plaster - under museum light.

we see:

               These star-crossed lovers beneath ashy covers,

               a story of passion told—

                                                   in      Fractured      sighs

               The wealthy lady rocking her dead baby,

               a story of loss told—

                                                   in      Forgotten      cries

               The young boy prays for a few more days

               a story of hope told—

                                                   in      Beautiful      lies

Fractured, Forgotten, Beautiful lives

                       all frozen mid-death

what story would your life imprint

if ashes rained,

                       world paused mid-breath?