Judgment Day

We are but grains of sand in life’s hourglass Plures inter plures waiting our turns That slowly penetrates the narrowness Of time ending all our worldly concerns. The moment comes like a thief in the night: Silently, stealthily, assuredly And in this sleep of death things are put right: Our past dreams become bits of history Involuntary intervals of life That has reflected our immortal souls And there are never any two alike Spirits on trial that will defend their roles. In the end, though, we go our separate ways Some ascend while others will face the blaze.