After all has ended what will be left?
A solitary weeping figure?
A pair of fissured eyes that wilt in the dark?
Or the vermillion tears that fall upon the
Heads of budding roses supported only
By their feeble necks?
The death of the angels is marked by
Grand symphonies lost and redundant.
Stentorian cries in the heavens shall
Wake the dead oceans and cover the earth.
Pallid faces, hollow eyes and cold lips fall.

What will we be witness to?
What will be left?