All that is Certain

The innocent throngs, left with nowhere to hide,
Place their trust in the symbols that give them such pride,
Which Heros have raised up to capture the sight,
Led by wise men who claim that their power makes right.
         But trust is the sound of the innocent crying,
         Pride is the chaos of nations dying,
         The Hero must struggle to draw his last breath,
         And the truly wise trust only Death.
         For all that is certain is Death.

The innocent masses, supported by faith,
Are led by the wise down the narrow and straight,
While leaders and rulers depend on their wealth
To cushion their futures and safeguard their health.
         But faith is the tolling of funeral bells,
         And wisdom the highway to thousands of hells,
         Wealth stays behind when life spends its last breath,
         And good health ends only in Death.
         For all that is certain is Death.

The innocent fear what must come in the end,
The mad seek to hurry, their lifeblood to spend,
And most look at life as a spiraling race,
At the end of which all of their fears they must face,
         But fear is a fool's way to see the unknown,
         To seek fate is madness that sears flesh and bone,
         To live is to cherish each glorious breath,
         And when it comes, proudly meet Death.
                   The ultimate end or
                   The next great adventure,
         All that is certain is Death.