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Poem

Death is dead

Once more

Where they stole the boots off the leftovers 
before they buried them after war

So as to keep the noise of trampling
dead feet down 

Waste not want not they don't need them
anymore where they are going or will
eventually end up stuck

Said the Crow to the raindrop

Splitting hairs on the reapers scythe

So stop and take one final last look at 

The Sun the Stars and our Moon

Falling from the ailing sky horizon afterglow 

As they fade ever gray into shadowed black 

And take the chance to tell that certain 
someone and utter the word love 

To they who taught you what it actually meant 
and true definition felt without fear of rejection
or being corrected 

Before feeling the menacing presence of
the reaper at your back

Crying underneath his chilling breath 

As back and back we further regress 

To whence from that we came

As finally with eyes wide open

All forms of light and life 

Are slowly taken stolen extinguished forever 

And dissipate like celestial graveyards

One after one

Until there are

None

At all left 

But

The 

One and only

Real true God remains

To sift through the embers

Of his greatest love lost failed creation 

We ourselves destroyed in vanities namesake

For no other reason apart from to show and prove

We could and can

So we did

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