Slowly the heart begins to falter,
Running to a standstill.
The skin constricts like a snake
And takes on the colour of the clouds.
Gently the tight gripped hand on mine releases
And he will turn cold.
The purple wax envelopes his skin
And his nails fade as the blood leaves.
A dark purple satin where the blood pools, lividity.
His blue fleshed hand lies limply
And his closed eyes sink into his skull,
The muscles tighten a final spasm of life,
And his head takes on the colour of the sea.
The air is filled with rotting meat,
And his face is no longer his own.