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As death reached a man

I worshipped the Silence

Knowing words the priest spoke

Were worthless

Look in the mirror and see

A man that once was

The man, with laugh full in mind

Malignancy in his brain

But even days full of life

Too short, too soon…

May still be darkened

Darkened !

Now pain is burning souls

Bent down on their knees

Drowning in the laws

From the enlightened cross

For whom the Earth’s not worth

Was created the sky

The fervent wound

Of helpless devotion !

The flat line on a screen

Monitoring last breaths

Two thin men took his remains

And dressed them for the play.

Snow on the floor

An open Church door

White dressed priest

Sanctifying.

Meaningless talk

Funeral walk.

Crimson sunsets…

Mourning…

New mornings.

The worth of Silence !

For whom The Earth’s not worth

Was created the Sky.

For whom the silence has worth