For
the stylish ones
and
their hangers-on,
death
bangs the drum slowly
until they are gone.
Everyone
who does badly
and
all who do well
the
world will be rid of
when
Death rings the bell.
But
you? No, not you –
never
you, perfect love –
breath
won’t abandon you,
Death
will not shove
you
where Death is resigned
to eject
the mere mortal.
When
the last of us vanishes
through
that last portal
you’ll
solely remain,
enchained
by infinity.
What
other fate
could
await a divinity?
Eternally
here.
Can’t
fall off the shelf.
Can
neither create
nor destroy Itself.
.
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