The eyes are the first to surrender,
their feathered lids closing,
the burning embers of the day’s sights dying.

The tongue turns cement-like, sealing the mouth;
Sound dissolves into unintelligible, then inaudible,
melting into the promise of a silenced mind.

Heavy limbs follow, a gentle paralysis,
blood running languid and thick like glue.

The mind slows to a promenade,
resting from its daily race.
And part by part the body’s enveloped
in the sweet ether
of noncommittal death.