Sempiternal Death

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Tears stained the faces of the mourning

as God cast a silent rain that dreadful day.

Shoulders fell heavily under the weight of Death’s hand

as each person stared at the one whose soul has been taken away.

 

She was as cold as the crisp winter air

and as stiff as the porcelain statues that decorated her resting place.

She laid peacefully on a satin finery that provided her with comfort

and her eyes were covered as she, at last, was resting in peace.

 

As each person leaned over her to say their final goodbyes,

one by one, they took their index finger

and traced the constellations that her scars have created on her skin,

and they all whispered to her, “Don’t worry. You’re still perfect to me.”

 

The mouth of Mother Nature began to swallow her child whole,

and nothing was left of her except for the

tombstone that will last longer than the life it was meant to mark,

and as she became devoured by Earth’s soil and dirt,

she was sent to the place that she longed to call ‘Home’.

 

The idea of death is sempiternal,

acting as a constant reminder that

our souls will all soon be

captivated by

darkness.

Poetry Slam: 

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