Life draws to a close

Tell me, O eyes—gentle, of yours—

How does fear stroke your heart?

Tell me, O heart—beautiful, of yours—

How do the eyes unveil the creeping tragedy?

Tell me, O life—fragile, of yours—

Do you feel redeemed?

Lightning patterns the sky like branches.

The voice of thunder draws near.

You pale—your bark splits and explodes.

You fall—and your breathing halts.

Scarlet floods the earth.

They snicker at the apocalypse of a bridge.

The heavens weep and howl.

I answer your eyes, your heart.

Life draws you to a close.

I ask your soul—

Are you flying with the angels?

You smile, for I know not as—

I walk in the dust ;

And you fly through the clouds.

---

(Neva's Augury)

A poetry for the little ones,

The youth and the aged.

For eyes that remained close,

For eyes those remained wide open—

With no life drifting in them.

For hearts that ceased their beating,

For souls ripped away from flesh.

We are unknown of when,

How, or where

We shall breathe our last—

Or the heartbeats nearest to death still.

I wish for not a mortal bearing a soul—

To wrest my own away from my hands.

The aforesaid I wish—

On you and on everyone else.

Though, I pray and forgive.

For it is already written in that Book.

For the freedom of preference of us—

Or theirs is what the future beholds.

Life goes on, yet in the end, gathers a close.

The immortal remains the spirit.

For the life you decide here on earth

Ushers you one of two separate paths.

To those still breathing, I word:

The now is yours.

Forever begins where after the valley ends.

I shall be home, resting with my Father —

In the fields of flowers,

And walk beside still waters.

Or, by the free will I lived on earth,

Shall suffer me burns in the ocean of fire—

And my spirit fade forever—without my Father.