Death is nothing
To those that have been forgotten,
Pushed to the fringes, the brink of nothingness,
Silently destroying the misbegotten.
The frayed edges of the void,
Like may nerves,
Grasp outwards,
Trying to pull the cord holding together
The myriad pieces of the world we know.
And as the dark lightning strikes,
We fall to the ground,
In reverence or terror
Of that which we don't understand.

© Tom Stanley