Me: Write a poem about a man who realized he’s dead
In the quiet dawn, where shadows blend,
A man stands still, at journey's end.
The world around him, eerily serene,
In the morning light, a surreal scene.
His steps are light, his breath is cold,
He walks through memories, stories untold.
Faces familiar, yet distant, withdrawn,
As he wanders the paths he thought he had known.
He calls out names, but no one hears,
His voice a whisper, lost in the spheres.
Hands reach out, but touch no form,
A ghostly presence, in the morning warm.
He sees himself, in the mirror’s gaze,
A shadowy figure, in a perpetual haze.
The realization dawns, like a sorrowful tide,
That he walks among the living, but stands outside.
Moments of clarity, like fleeting stars,
Reveal the truth, in painful scars.
His life now past, a whispered breath,
A man who’s crossed the veil of death.
Yet in this new realm, a peace he finds,
In the gentle whispers of the winds' binds.
For though he's gone, his essence stays,
In the hearts of loved ones, in endless ways.
In this realization, a quiet grace,
He embraces his fate, in this timeless space.
A spirit set free, no longer weighed,
A man who has realized, he's now a shade.
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