Death is still a fresh concept unto man. It is something that few know how to truly deal with; how to harness it and become stronger from it. For many, however, it weakens them. Breaking them down into the same ashes their loved one was buried in. The dirt that one returns to is the same that is flooded by the tears of the lover, the same that has been soaked in the blood of men who’ve toiled the fields. Every grain of dirt has been burned, frozen, and bloodied, yet is treated the same through the years. It still remains another piece of dirt.
Soon, when the body has returned to dirt, it becomes just another grain in the world we live in. Within time, the body that encompasses it is forgotten. The personality and originality of what made that person unique are lost, with none to remember the life it led. As it loses importance to all left, it loses its human traits, soon to be identified as “It,” as if another piece of dirt. The life it once held is now dead, just waiting to devour another life, another body, into the underground darkness of death.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
