There will be no marker here,
no X to mark this place in time.
When golden comforts sang lullabies
to our horror and fear
and somehow convinced us
that Death was nowhere near.

Night succumbs to day
like a tired Spanish bull
to the matador's sword.
A strange magnetic pull
ushers us forth from our beds and nests
to face trials and tests
instead of sweet dreams.

Still, it seems
that there will be no memorial
left to honor The One
who, in a single act, pulled back the veil.
In some small way, we all hail
from the hedonistic, over-simplistic
existence of the 'Gods',
but The One showed us
that in times of pain and sorrow
we conjure the strength to greet tomorrow.