The beautiful Thing about Death

There's something so beautiful about death,
Dare I say it?
That endless sleep when nothing is left
We all play it.
This game we call love and death is the outcome
For all is a gift for a moment in time.

These items we possess now seem kind of dumb
Looking back at the coveted music and wine.
Residual energy of a life once lived well
A spirit once inhabited
A soul that once here, now only the shell.

Those memories tied to the items we see
Of that person with their own identity
Now just another soul
Floating around the ether free
Now just another hole
In our society.

But its death that reminds us
That we take too much for granted,
All that time building up trust
All the photos were straight, now slanted.
Now dead flowers fill the room
Their scent still lingers in the air
Another thing so beautiful as met their doom
Another closed book, another empty chair.

A bittersweet reminisce
Of sorrow and of bliss
Filled with regrets of moments passed
Of times when we forgot to ask
If they were feeling okay
Or even asked about their day
Not about the money they made,
More about the games they played.

Now too late to make amends
For the times we weren't good friends.
So we look to our own lives,
Promise to love our husbands and wives
Like we never had before
As we realise life's too short
But as the days pass by we know
That we all have our time to go.

So go on, live it up
Death is watching
For when time is up
He'll be lurking
Never late,
But sometimes early,
This is our fate.