I Heard a Fly buzz- when I died-
No noise in the moment when the storm heaves, all silent except the stumbling buzz.
No more rain can fall from the eye, the storm had wrung them dry.
Take in one last breath, while the king has it’s visit in the mourning room.
There was an uncertain buzz between the light and me and could not see
I could agree in this depressing death poem, not only I had seen death but all of us had or will go through it, therefore we will feel what she feels. The spirit in the room is silent, so silent you can hear a fly buzz along with it, there is no emotion but confusion, not ready to lose life, but there stands the king ready to take you home.
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