Hurricane Butterfly Lost Between the Lines

I saw you breathing for the last time, on the floor, alone, surrounded by the ghostly footsteps of strangers with their own lives, living them, losing them, and forgetting the important things.

You struggled, and lost, fought, and lost. It wasn't your time, yet, the similarities were uncanny.

Spirit appeared, and you were scared. You didn't even know you had one, but there it was, there it sat, watching you lift your wings, tap you heart, breathe your final breath.

Did you know it was you? Did it know whom you were?

All that remained was the road within the room without a light to guide you.