Death and I by Mark R.

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When death comes

I’ll need not love –

Consumed,

No wreath or dove

Could offer me salvation,

Not when I’m no more.

A weathered stone will bear my name –

Identity of once a being

Living out existence in

A world of risk, and never seeing

Sense of why we’re here.

My genes will die away thro’ child –

Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,

Will quickly dim with generation –

Bow to future dominance –

Memories of provenance

Resigned to curious few.

When death comes

I’ll need not grace

Below; no grieving face

Will call my resurrection,

Not when I’m at ground –

Death and I so bound

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