To Death

There is beauty in the night, In it darkness overcomes light. There is something in the waves rising, Then resigning to gently falling. There is joy in a candle burning bright, The finality in the way it sputters and dims- Disappearing from sight. Let us celebrate life in the making, But remember a toast to death- Because one day, The grim reaper towers before a dying spirit, Our souls for his taking. Although there might be tears, Let us not forget how mourning bells echo through centuries, Though we remember with clarity, much is lost to time. And the Earth never stops spinning round and round. Our Father, death, He never forgets. He takes what is his, He is the king to our subjects, A monarch with no need for a crown. Whether you are a naked child on the plains of Africa, A lonely astronaut carving his name on Mars, Or a middle aged man yearning for something more in life. The king unites humanity in strength, Before life and faith takes us apart.