Spectral Resonance

In the glass confessional, a skull confides its story, A map of colors, a topography of the soul. Pink, blue, and yellow, like whispers of the past, Dance upon its surface, a macabre waltz at last. The teeth, a row of pearls, a grin of the earth, A reminder of mortality, a fleeting birth. The colors bleed, a slow and gentle rain, Washing away the edges, the sharp pain. In this fragile case, a paradox is held, A symbol of death, with beauty to unfold. The glass, a barrier, a threshold to cross, Between the worlds, where life and death are lost. The skull, a vessel, a container of the past, A reminder of what's to come, a future to forecast. In its colorful disguise, a truth is revealed, A message of acceptance, of the cycle unsealed.