Death

Death rides in on silent hooves,

As slaughter comes to a farmyard lamb,

Trust your days as granted safe,

Ease yourself into an early grave.

 

The solitude of soil, the empty void,

Sodden earth, and tears of loss,

Acknowledge you, gone.

 

Wind gusts wildly,

On a dead flame,

Tombstone and fresh cut flowers.

 

Strange creatures, humans,

Floundering into the arms of end,

Man imagines himself Christ-like,

Crucifies himself fittingly.

 

Death rides in on silent hooves,

With nothing to gain,

Nothing to lose.

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