even the earth dies

the flames of hell
run through the blood veins -
death is the end of all things
(death is also the end of death)

heaven and hell move on
in their unaltered courses
(even the earth dies)

life is merely an existing memory
taking refuge in the mind
as if in some foreign land
escaping its own war-torn country

the dead live with us
in our memories of them
(death is also the end of memory)

the only regret i have in dying,
is that i leave people behind
to remember me
and to mourn my passing
(even the earth dies)

Poetry by Thomas Perdue The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2012-09-06 at 19:13

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Morning Star
Interesting poem, full of depth and reflection.
Very well written.


the journey home and other poems
by Thomas Perdue