Death Makes Us Kin

I’m far from being damn special.

Yet the reaper finds I’m acceptable.

Let coldness for it be reciprocal,

it brings us all to be connectable.


Berate fellow souls we should not

for we can see our common spot.

In large fields of tombstone lots

we’ll be what the earth has forgot.


The grave’s our common enemy,

so approach me not with enmity.

Your hurt I know as friend to me.

So let us extend hands of civility.


Beyond where the snow falls,

far from shadows the sun draws,

where longing for ears does call,

meaning and purpose is in us all.


Devices of our nature will taunt

bringing what asps speak soft,

we need not the skill of savants

to see our peril it does haunt.


Our value upon this orb in space

amounts to zero in cosmic haze.

Though kinships we do embrace

is what the universe can’t erase.


Brief is this life we do serve out.

To cause strife can bring drought

to splendid gifts we should spout

rather than torment enmity clouts.



Categories: Culture, Inner Thoughts

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

4 replies

  1. We’re all definitely going to die…that’s true.

    Liked by 1 person

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