The Cemetary

Diversity-
Conformity-
Equality-

We're born.
We live.
We die.

Each cross set in remembrance
One for each life
Each one the same
Only set apart by writing
Marking a different date
A different life

Diversity? No.
In death we find ourselves the same.

Conformity? No.
In death we are set free.

Equality? Yes.
In death we are seen as equals.
Finally.

We all were born
We all lived
We all died.

Living on only in a memory.
Keep us.

Losing Control to Find It

It was in this moment that he realized this is the way he always wanted to go. Suddenly, all the fear left him and he stopped fighting it and sat back to take in the moment. The equipment beneath him stuttered and spun and he simply smiled.

He'd lived his life the way he had always hoped he would. He had learned to fly. The dream he had had as a child was fulfilled and even magnified beyond what he ever imagined. As a stunt flier, he had wowed the crowd. He had managed to do things in mid air that he never could have dreamed possible back when he first saw a plane fly above his head at the age of 7 years. Back then, he only imagined soaring through the clouds someday. He never dreamed he would do that and so much more.

The plane beneath him had been his friend, his comfort through every trial, his get-away from every difficulty. This was the friend he had spent so much of his life with, and this was the friend he would end it all with. Its spinning had now subsided and it was diving toward the earth.

He closed his eyes and felt that now he was truly flying. Inside and out.