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Poem

From dearly beloved, to dearly departed
It is for them, once every while tears I shed
Here in fresh today, then to dust tomorrow and gone
When death hauls by, sorrow is born

Tears and tares In the natural order of things
Sadness mixes with memories as the grieving choir sings
It’s not easy to remember how to forget certain persons
Or to believe they now dwell blissfully in heavenly mansions

Wherever death hides all whom it kidnaps
I hope it’s a place of sweet endless naps
To rest in peace under the infinite hour hand
Hopeful undisturbed by a celestial angel band

I can’t stop wondering about those I loved already there
Do they still possess a conscious enough to care
Do they have souls as whole as a sheep in wool
Or to think in this manner, am I the fool

History is littered with conquerors, exalted now in glorious paintings
But none conquered their way back to life to give away after-life ratings
It is the land from which no traveler returns
And we shall all go there in turns and not under our terms

Time and death have conspired against us
We are all poor children of the dark curse
And despite the holy men’s sacred books and talks
We are all destined to inherit the paradox

So, as I cry for the departed, let me laugh for myself a bit
For its someone's duty to cry for me too when am in the pit
We are all the departed, we just don’t know it yet
Dead men on leave, a generation someone will someday forget

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