Erika

Simple, silent and smooth a star’s descent
Beneath watery depths her final bed
The star-lit waves do sing to her lament
The sun shall rise to find her gone. She’s dead!

That-tis the doom for us the gods have sent
Cold fear, the only food with which we’re fed
Black hounds yap at our heels, burning, hell-bent
Ghosts hurling us in deep, undying dread.

The dance we do from birth to somber death
We twirl as if we’re pulled by unseen strings
A riddle told each new and fading breath
Has no idea the hardship it will bring

As sure as any else life Mirrors too
And shows our ugly’st faces, those most true