Death runs a mysterious game
Knitting itself into our lives
nodding and shaking it's head with authority
Life is out there it's light that death forces our eyes open to see
It climbs into our heads as we climb into bed
And won't leave our humble footsteps to and from work
There's a lot of beauty in this world
Some of it remains for many years and some of it disappears,
before you could even put your finger on what you thought was so beautiful about it.
Yes death runs a mysterious business
Slamming into things and interrupting everybody's lives
When a young child dies silences are deafening
The stomach is upturned and thoughts of god's master plan and destiny
are thrown onto the table like an ugly supper that takes months to eat.
How does life just simply evaporate leaving a few ridiculous signs
that our science and medicine can calmly pass off as being reasonable causes
Death itself some invention of the human mind, some fifteenth century painting
of a hooded specter wielding a scythe.
There's no death there's just departure, departure of beautiful people
and smiles for a while, departure of lifestyles and certain giggles
Some question god, some question destiny
on how a soul so innocent as a young child's could leave a caring family so abruptly
Death the mysterious game, as unpredictable as life
Moving and working as life does
subtracting from the equation of our existence. Above all scrutiny
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário