In death, we shine

Your tombstone bares words that read your life.
Of sympathy, of love and strife.
But in the bones, that lie beneath.
A head of stars sits with golden teeth.
And holds a grand and saintly story.
Beyond the scope of daily glory.
For your own magic hums inside those bones.
Beyond what’s carved above in stone.
Your story is a vast and endless sea.
That goes beyond mortal humanity.

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Shine

The little lights inside that twinkle.
Burn bright and strong within.
A beacon like a church’s steeple.
To good, to god and sin.
Yet the ones that burn the brightest.
Must therefore burn half as long.
And your flame has burned the shiniest.
So soon, from our eyes you’ll be gone.
But do not let your eyes fall in sadness.
Or collapse into grey despair.
For your light has led the bravest.
Who will always remember you were here.

Offer

Inside my hands, gold and diamonds sparkle.
Their shine fades in your eyes.
Reduced to lead and coal.
Out of my tongue sweet words trickle.
Caught up with cotton candy and sincerity.
Such bitter tastes to your ears.
I offer my heart, the most valued treasure.
And all you see is an organ of despair.
Sounding such sombre music.
With its dying rasps.
Yet still you owe me nothing in return.