Falling Chance

Ahead of me is a choice

Bright red

Against the dark world

I hold it in my palm


Watching it go

From my hand

Up and down

It spins


Rises above the dark

A chance


Hand reaches

As it slowly



And around



Is passing

I am too slow

It is fading


The chance

Is rotting in front of me

Becoming brown

And soft


As other hands

Snatch for it


The world goes dark

As life ceases



Seeds Falling.

A light at the end


Not everything is gone

After all

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