Death

Another one gone

Another one dangling

On the verge

Balancing

On the edge of a blade

Another one

Missing death 

By mere inches

The length and breadth

Of an eyelash

Another one taken

From God's green earth

Another rose

No longer named

There, beside the epitaph

There, beside the grave

Or another hole

Filled with a box

There, to commemorate the soul

There, paying homage

To the unfulfilled goals

And we know it's inevitable

We knew it would come

Yet we are shocked

There, we feel the loss

There, before it even occurs

Was it willed

Or was it just fate?

Is Heaven recruiting

Once again?

I don't know

Who does?

In this life,

This plane of existence,

What can one say,

But there,

There,

There,

It will be okay

© Dean R Boic 2015