AN EPITAPH TO MAN

Fear is but an abstract thing,

an icy touch, an eerie ring.
A tremor running down your spine, a sting,
but ‘tis not fear that this does bring.

A blitzkrieg stab of horrid pain,

enough to send the sane insane.
Death falls upon like gentle rain,
then eats you up, just like a flame.

And now alls left is but a space,

where once there trod a warring race.
An evil vile and wanton place,
Thank god has gone without a trace.

Yet hold there are a few survive,

where once again evil may thrive.
Let’s hope to better ends they strive,
‘till only good is left alive.

by Dae Neumann