Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
All it takes is a spark.
A little push to take it to the edge and past.
To spark a revolution,
A massacre.
A heartbreak.
Black was not always the colour of despair.
White did not always mean purity and hope.
What we see in the fallen snow once honored the dead,
Those since past us.
Souls are not meant to be mourned.
Their souls do not hunger for sadness,
for tears,
for a shattered heart and mind.
Life it not something to mourn.
It is a celebration.
Do not weep for times that will not come.
Smile fondly on the times that did.
Do not steep, bitter over lost ones' departure.
Take pride their heart touched yours as they passed through.
For death is not something to be mourned.
It is a time for celebration of life lived.
White was not always as pure as crisp fresh snow.
You cannot spell funeral without fun.
All it takes is a spark.
Do with it what you will.