How does Death call ?
Like the nightingale
who's call so shrill and piercing,
is the call to Hades,
and the catacombs of not life.
From life in all it's rich,
vainglorious abundance whole,
comes the eclipsing of a soul,
gone deep into, an earthly hole.
Darkness the reaper
has taken my friends aloft,
to a point of light,
where love protects them, every night.
Countenance of the mighty angels
fills the instant death did come,
loaded in a fear of unknowns,
scarce the reason come undone.
Now the avenger
of the righteous is stolen,
bound in chains where hate
has fallen to the might of love.
In the blinking of his eyes,
all reality has spontaneously left,
only the crying of the wind,
stays with us, the sad and the bereft.
Crystal waters cascading
to bring the dreams we held alive,
evening chills call aloud silence,
and finally the race is run.
Droplets upon the skin of life,
now let go of hope to share,
death has called and taken motion,
bet we remember movements there.
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