The last breath of ink.

Removing the memory

out of a thought,

the final ink from a pen,

life's last stroke disappears

taking the hiss out of the wind

while the snake rewinds

across the book of full pages

now erased, displayed empty.

As death moves through a library

clouds grey grow in silence hovering

but the whispering from things to come

continue in the wake as far as the ink flows

over the hills on life's last breath.