Inquiring minds want to know.

Swift as spinning globes in darkness,
Years melt off our fear of death’s embrace.
Cold it seemed to youths burning passion.
But wisdom brings acceptance.
It was as it is as it shall be ever and a day.

This is certain yet some rage like stuck Bulls,
frothing and beating horns in vain
Attempt to avenge the matador’s escape.
Red dances before their eyes,
But blackness waltzes in the end.

As a child conceives death so might it be:
Sleeping without dreams or waking,
Floating in the ocean’s deep-alone,
Rotting under indifferent soils.

Philosophers and theologians scream,
To drown the other’s thought.

Governments codify corpses expectations
But the undertaker holds sway.

Saviors and avatars promise eternity.
Death’s dice roll in a moment.

Unlooked for,
Yet pursued each passing day.

Can we satisfy our need with hollow word,
Before our feet tread this globe no more.