Death is inevitable,
A sort of sleep,
That one may never rise from.
Death is sudden,
But Death is slow,
Haunting,
Relieving,
Silence.
Pain cannot be erased completely,
But can be relieved.
Death cannot be relieved,
But might cause relief.
Maybe not for you,
Not for me,
But for whom Death has hailed a cab,
Imbedded in flowers and fairies,
Into the sky,
A sky full of stars.
And each Death,
Slow, haunting, sudden, quick,
Leads to the birth of a star.
And each star stands out from the rest,
As does the next.
and the next.
and the one after.
Born is the inevitable Death.
Dead is the first life of a born soul.
Death is Birth.
Born to Die.
4/9/15 Time N/A
[~S~]
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Not an update, jus fixed my mistake becasue the last part of the pome didnt get posted, even my signature.
:-)
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