The head rolled into his lap
As if the Almighty did not feel his sufferance was great enough
Little can surpass the death of a friend
Still less can surpass it
When he stood and was seen
And in an instant disappeared
Leaving but a cloud
And a head in his lap
The head rolled into his lap
He now could feel
The face he had known
A face prone to smiles
Although never in this crestfallen country
But who had smiled nonetheless
He felt the cheeks still warm and saw the eyes now blank
He observed
At first recognizing his friend
Suddenly realizing death had overcome him
And taken his body to wherever the dead go
To the empty, dark abyss of atheism
Or the magnificent rewards of the gods of yore
The head rolled into his lap
In the theft of his friend
Death had not only robbed him of joy
It had branded his mind
With the horror
Of all the suffering the wretched world could possibly throw at him
Including his friend's head
Which rolled
Into his lap