The future is but shadows
moving slowly towards a grave
Open wide waiting acceptance
for the sinners and the saved
All the mirrors cracked and shattered
All the portraits torn to shreds
The soul now looking inward
for a likeness that is dead
We will peer into the darkness
past the cemetery flames
Praying for a sunrise
knowing it wonÕt be the same
For the light of that new dawning
will burn with a different fire
It may be what weÕve most dreaded
or it may be what weÕve desired
But despite all our awareness
Death will find us unawares
And despite our preparations
Death will find us unprepared
We will travel with the baggage
weÕve collected all of our days
But few things that we have clung to
will assist us on the way
Just the echoes cold and hallow
are the answers in the night
Old dreams almost forgotten
are the visions now in sight
Are the linens that we sleep with
the practice shrouds of our repose?
When we struggle in our dreaming
do we practice our death throes?
