Fragile and futile

The nature of life,

In the endless stream of misery

We drown while alive.

From beginning to the end

Recklessly hacked and spent.

The end is near, blow the horn

One is dead

Before he was even born

Too late, too late,

Always too late.

Impending doom

Murders those

Who never get.

But I suppose in the end

It is better to bend.

Let out the final sigh

Neither mourn nor cry.

Smear the earth

With the ashes of her son.

Never meant to be here,

And now one is finally gone.