Searching through the lifelong scrolls
My time and place of death,
There’s no surprise or irony
The crossing killed me with regrets.

It entered first and second chambers
Where many more were lost,
The walls defaced throughout the ages,
Symbols in the rocks embossed.

It’s a modern form of shellshock,
Anxiety of the evening,
They etched a rose and hollyhock,
Banks with quantative easing.

Further on, I reached the river,
The place I knew, now lost from view,
Crows feet in the mudflats breathing,
Volcanic ash where airlines flew.

Life alone is sacrosanct,
The death-dial my disease;
To each and everyone I thank
Who kept my self from me.

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