The Death Of All Things Poem by Nero CaroZiv

All Things will Die
And unfortunately so do I


We watch the clear blue river chimes in its flowing
Under our eye;
At its beauty and vigor the heart melt, sink and sigh
We admire the warm and broad winds from the south as they are blowing
While above us the canopy of ever colossus sapphire vaults of the sky.
At coming and going winters, one after another the white clouds are fleeting;
Every human heart on blooming June morning in joyance is beating


Full merrily, unaware, inattentive discarding the end
So we all ominously pretend


Yet we cannot shake off the end;
we live with it; all things must die.
Once for us the fresh stream will cease to flow;
The world will shut; the wind will cease to blow;
We all go where the clouds will cease to fleet;
Our heart stoned, will cease to beat;


We all will die; as all things must die.
Spring for us will come never more.


When we leave our house every day Death waits at the door.
See! our friends and beloved ones are all forsaking
The wine, the sounds of merry and the merrymaking.
We are called; we are all summoned -we must go.
Go to lay low, under the dust very low,
In the dark coffin we must lie.
The merry glees, will be dark and still;
The voice of the pert and nimble bird
Shall no more be heard,
Nor the wind shall echo on the warm side hill.


What a looming terminating misery
Death is such unnatural, undesired thing


When I think
Of long cold rogue murky winter; I know behind it
There will come vital full of growth spring
Yet I cannot be optimistic the same way about death
Since death is eternal, constantly is calling
Kingdoms and icons are falling,
The red cheek into old age sickening and paling,
The strong limbs of our youth are failing;
Ice into our warm blood is introducing and mixing;
The eyeballs sinking and fixing.
Here are the tolls of the passing bell:
Merry souls, adieu! farewell.
The dying old earth
Had a new birth
And we are not there




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