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Descriptive Essay About Death

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I understood suffering and love and how they both went hand and hand when I looked down at my father’s gravestone for the last time. The cemetery was nice—well, as “nice” as a cemetery could be. Paved paths lined the land, so no one had an excuse to stomp all over the grass in their shoes. You’d think the grass then would be an untouched summer green; instead, it always gave off the look to me as being half-dead. As if it could tell it resided in a graveyard, so it of course mirrored the only thing it knew- death. It was a weathered day. Wind pulled on my jacket collar, a sharp breeze passing completely through me. The air howled into my ears, screaming things I could not make sense of. The grey sky was two large stretched-out hands reaching for each other. Layers upon layers of ashen cloud lined above me, hiding the blue and sunlight trapped behind. Yet, the briefest of sun rays broke through small holes in the cinder haze, only to illuminate the top of the aging head stone just briefly. But the scene wasn’t as off-putting as it would have been to others. Instead, I found some comfort in the cold and darkness. It was as if the world was mourning his death. The wind, side by side with me, in this time. I wondered then what it would be like if the earth could truly feel. Maybe life would be less cruel in that way. Mother nature would look into me and see what lay beneath—a young boy hidden in my shadow casted onto the ground. A young boy with eyes down pouring like the

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