Bones of Men
The bones of men trinkle down through the sea
of Sorrow, Misery, and Innesfree.
Death and Life take turns moving a small key
and Man falls before a blankless void free.
Man will crumble and grow every few blinks
He comes through the Earth with Nothing, lifeless
Only when He begins to cry he sinks
Into the everlasting pit: silent
Man continues the cycle 'til Death's scythe
ultimately collects the sands of that
which is the Universe and all our lives
We flash for a moment, becoming flat.
Nothing cared nor noticed our departure
The bones of men now voidless and stronger.
This poem is about:
Our world
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