From the world we know
Comes a voice that beckons on
The visage of eternity gleaming
In lack-lustre looks of the doomed
As though presented to be known
They bear themselves in finality
In the last monets of breath
To the unrealized angel of death
Such a curse to have fallen upon
To know the hour of their end
For those who see it, fear it
Their lives touched in an instant
Irony laughs in struggling gasps
Bestown insight to sense extent
Saving lives, a surreal satire
That reaches out in passing
Obliged to keep its shadow close
A constant companion of life
As the dark night follows day
So must reside, the angel of death
To look into their eyes
And to view their very souls
Incapsulated for transition
They vanish instantly in a blink
The glimmer of life reflected
Now gives way to to a hollow stare
A temple once alit with warmth
Transforms to a cold hollow hulk
A voiceless, soulless carcass
A name only to pass to stone
And to the vague dominion
That whirls in a spinning earth