Grief reigns supreme when precious life is gone;

the echoes of past time

lie silent in the grave.

Mute testimony of what once was,

and never will be again. 

When God allows death’s hand to conduct its mortal 

business; 

life departs, and the dust prepares to accept the

return of its own.

The grieving with no choice, give back that which

belongs to the grave.

Not even the soul remains; for it has its own destination.

The great next to the small,

and the rich beside the poor;

now returned to the dust, which knows no 

value nor status concerning the dead.

And while the surviving consider,

knowledge whispers in the ear,

that man’s hold on earthly bonds is tenuous at best;

and all of life is fleeting.