〰️ not quite the prompt 〰️

It makes sense that it’s raining.

Even the sky is crying.

The sea of black mourners twists and tumbles, turning into one giant creature.

Looming.

Prying

Wishing to be anywhere but here.

Not realizing that this isn’t social hour

That you can’t just talk about the weather.

What you are going to do next weekend.

Who lost the last football game.

This is a ritual to celebrate life

But more importantly

The ending of it

Like a candle being sniffed out

Like a string being cut

The life of someone who could fill a space with their words.

The life someone who dreamed of change if the world

The life of someone who wanted to more then just exist, they wanted to LIVE.

The death of someone who could have

who should have

Survived