Fading Fast

This thing that I used to have, this living, viable, breathing thing. This thing that was pulsing in my hands and full of life, is slowly dieing. The light is fading, The darkness is closing in. There in the depths you can see the barely visible light, pulsing slower and slower. And then, the darkness completly closes in. The object dies. So now instead of this bright vibrant object, I now hold a cold, dead, hollow shell. A shell that is turning to dust and begining to slip through my fingers. A dust that is being blown in all directions by the wind with no hopes of ever becoming viable again. and now its gone. the remnants of what I held, only a memory.