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Dying Sun
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Of Failing Flesh
The ever fading din of our heartbeats,
a somber dirge of failing flesh,
the final echoes of man,
resonate into empty space.
The sound of our end barely more than a whisper…
…And this is the moment
everything ends.
Peel back the skin from bone.
Expose our hollow shells.
We exist
in the space between life and death.
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Left all alone to face the cold.
Tear past the flesh and free the soul.
Will we have left an everlasting mark?
Will our lifeless bones remain
to show the beats of our hearts?
Will the things we built
leave a message for the ages?
….That we were once here?
….That anything was here?
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