that which was living is now dead
that which was living is now dead
a heart has stopped beating and breaths no longer appear
that which was living is now dead all the machines agree
the brain’s sparks are fleeting there are no ghosts to fear
the moment which we all dread has now become a reality
stand by helpless and useless clutch at the beads of hope
uttering the meaningless prayers to myriad invisible gods
believing in afterlifes proof less of souls that cannot cope
measuring out the walls of layers of mortar bricks and sod
spirits held in the photographs memory and written words
handed down through generations incomplete bits missed
worship mistakes taking new paths trusting in the absurd
rituals to come by administration the weeping face kissed
interred and remembered in stone graven images cursed
then one day to be at last left alone in no hunger or thirst