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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1967065
A short poem sort of about about life, death, and faith.

-And Then-
by
Keaton Foster

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Once tall
Laying down
Dead
Deceased
Empty carcasses
Lacking any soul
Each one of them
Intimately known
Caring so deeply
Wishing not to be
Without them is hell
Monuments of pain
Standing in the shade
A sun no longer shines
Darkness enshrined
Where have they gone
Will any of us ever know
Is the destination the same
Or does in vary in ways
Unimaginable to those that remain
Relation as always is a game
And we are all playing right along
Copious amounts of copies
Living within the same hypocrisy
There is absolutely no certainty
Increasingly wondrous is the pain
Suffering without them
Each day does the sun rise
And every night does it hide
A vicious cycle
That all of us are living
We come to this place
This wilderness of the dead
To remind us of what we have lost
And what it is they have gained
All who reside
Are corpses free of flesh
Skeletons unencumbered
Piles of dust with not a wind
To spread them wide
Trapped in their final state
Human beings turned waste
Those that have come here
Aimlessly walk about
Mourning those dead
Crying in their hands
Screaming towards their own sky
Symbolic tides in an ocean of reality
God above is the only one who knows
And he refuses to speak with any clarity
Speculation is the best offered
Belief is and will always be
The only true form of salvation
At least while we are living
And then…


And Then
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013

© Copyright 2013 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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