The Story of Death



The story of death
is played out in time
Never with a particular beat
or a particular rhyme.

Every man shall live,
and every man shall die.
But it’s those who die in front of you,
those you see with your eye.

It’s the day of death 
that stabs through my heart,
Her motionless body
was just ripping me apart.

The glassy stare
from the fragile face
struck my heart
and made it race.

Laura is gone
and I can’t turn back time,
the parties over,
now who commited the crime?

But the clock must still tick,
and time must go one,
It doesn’t matter what happened yesterday,
because yesterday is now gone.

The past was meant to be history
and each day is another page,
Her death was always written
to take place on center stage.

As the final tear drips down my cheek
and the thought of her coming back remains bleak,
I learn to deal and do my best
with what is known as The Story of Death.