Sunday, February 23, 2014


Rituals of death are grim
is our existence but a whim?
No one living knows for fact
if they'll rue their foulest act
or cease to be when day grows dim.

We leave behind an empty husk
departing in the daunting dusk
removed from plans that failed to gel
and praying if there be a hell
the stay is brusque.

No comments: