Colin F. Jones

JUSTIFICATION

That which due to its absence is revered,
With terminal life immortalized by regret,
Maintained as a power ever to be feared,
Guarded by a mysterious religious set.
That is the substance that we know as death,
The end of life that devours everyone,
That in our minds we never can accept,
That when we die we are really gone.
Yet none return! And none know where they went.
Yet saw them die and buried in the ground
Or burnt to ashes laid beneath cement.
Gone away; gone without a sound!
Survive we must, even when we die,
To justify believe that we’re alive.