A congregation convenes to
confront a cold corpse's casket.
Bringing before it tears, emotions,
memories, and trembling limbs.
Not a single word is mustered,
yet a realm of regret clouds the scene.
Tears graze the soil that will become
an eternal resting place six feet under.
Naïve mortals mourn the hollow flesh,
ignoring the omnipresence of the dead.
An icy breeze turns vertebrae into glaciers,
chilling any soul whose eyes encounter the casket.
Words would only interrupt the ceremony.
Tears only salt the earth, which awaits flesh.
We must cherish the memories nearest our hearts,
lest the casket, the corpse, and all else be forgotten.
One of the most common fears in life: being forgotten after death. In my opinion, being forgotten will always be worse than death itself.
I love this; It's sad and true. conveying both the materialist realm, and the spiritual. Focusing on the fears worse than death.
Thank you very much. I'm glad you're able to appreciate the depth behind both sides of the piece. Not everyone is able to do that. Thank you again.
This is very true, and very well-written.