Funerals

I've seen people at funerals. Some silently cry, some look into the distance, some wail, some seek consolation; but amongst all these people, there is always that one person who looks into your eyes, only for you to realize that there no longer is a burning spark in their eyes. They died too, on the inside.

I never knew what it meant to feel dead from the inside. But somehow, as my fire extinguishes bit by bit, with me desperately trying to keep it burning, I feel myself slipping away. I feel incapable of getting myself to face another day, to face people, to hold all my relationships together. What gave me joy before is what I'm indifferent to now. I feel weak, tired and pleading for something to happen.

The skies are dark, and soon, the rain will put off the fire.

Will it be my funeral then, or my re-birth?