What is death?
Is it the end of life or the beginning?
Is it peace or turbulence?
Is death mere soil and stiffened skin?
Is it weeping wives, husbands or wailing kids?
How much of ourselves do we lose to death?
Does the clown retain his humour still?
Or the beautiful retain their silky skin?
Does the strong fight off the worms or succomb to decay?
Do we live on laying bare beneath the grass?
Only those that have tasted it can say
But where are they?