It starts mainly by the hit, that splash the wings of your dreams on the watery misery of the truth that comes down on you with the restless breath of death.
Then you have to face with the end that lines the border of your life.
And then you realize that the path is followed by two but only one will be let inside. The pairs that arm by arm walk through all, they have to separate while time has come. There are no singles, not a dot of pot, inside where you vanish with your soul. So they step foot by foot together with the arm in arm, but we have to die alone like the Sun that sinks by night. Even when reflection remains without the change there is time when we will close the doors behind which the shadow dies, and return by our own with no one by one side, the steps with half of noise that disappears at once.

We can pace together but we die alone.