Death's Kiss

his silent passing changed a few lives
the tears shed, handful of dreams shattered
but now, it seems, the ages have gone by
like those menthol cigarettes he smoked
there he is in the memory, slowly fading
here we are, with those then broken hearts,
vividly healing and mending on our own
rosy straight faces changing into curves
a sip of joy, a couple of laughs or two
and after all this while,
today is no different from yesterday
and tomorrow will be no different than the day after
and isn't there a melancholic beauty in that?
death as inevitable, as acceptable,
as it should be.
and souls so brave, gravely resilient,
they refuse to mourn their lives.

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