We grieve for death as if we won't all die one day,
As if death is a cruel visitor, unannounced and uninvited
As if someone stole something that we thought we were holding on to
Too tightly to be torn from our grasp.
We grieve for death like we have been slighted.
Like we have been tricked and deceived
Like we read the court transcript but life perjured itself.
Like we signed the contract
But there was fine print in invisible ink.
Like this wasn't supposed to happen.

They were supposed to be here.
They were supposed to be limitless,
I suppose, we supposed.

We grieve for death because we could not save them.
Because we could not fight back against the onslaught of time.
Because we could not change the span of decades into millennia,
Last seconds into slow hours.
Because we could not control
Even what we loved most.
Because we will die one day,
We grieve.

The infinite is impossible.
And we know that,
In our grief for death.
Until we forget,
For however long we have
Until we are reminded again,
Or until we serve only
To remind others in turn.