why would death be the end of anything

a tree awakes after decades

a flower blossoms upon dead soil

a memory shifts into new identities

a book deemed out of print in oil —

a snake shivers off its skin

and butterflies drop by the dozens

the old ground holds powerful energies

a child considered missing blossoms —

a song sung by a new choir creeps

as teardrops salinate on new cheeks

the new generation silver lining

the old bodily suffersome pining —

a greek wisdom took us centuries

to seek justice among our gentries

the religious orders

defeated our borders

all seperate kinds

show similar minds,

now

why would death be the end of anything

we rule and perish and rule again

from my dead earth you grow a country

and countries hold a home for kin.

– Marco Aldendorff, 2004

(Source: aldendorff)

Follow my dreams they say but what if I have horrible dreams.
—Marco Aldendorff

(Source: aldendorff)