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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 has no worth

Was created the Sky.

The fervent wound of helpless devotion !

The flat light 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

The 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...