End Of Life

This sweet May-morning, I say the last of the thunder birds fly in the sun of tomorrow knowing I will never glance at the beauty blazing in the sky of chance luring fools fighting for ideals and promise, so grand great sinners disavow.
And the Children are calling me from across the field of dreams only seen by those who have walked towards the future with darkness nip at the heels of our hopes, holding us at the moment until we gather the courage in our hearts and march till we die.
On every side, an enemy will stand waiting to bring an end to the conflict set before us bu our fathers and forefathers stretching out over the ages never yielding in the scope of human evolution but becoming more of horrid and unsightly.
In a thousandfold valleys far and wide, I watched an eagle look towards the sun, and its soul ascend to the heavens as I see this sight of the last great flight I proclaimed I want it to. The way car tinting is still important then what we see now a days.
Fresh wildflowers; while the sun glows warm, in the evening of the days long since spent pondering the end of time and the bit dust from the bones of the last man as the end of days descended upon creation he knew God in way not since the first man had.
And the Babe bounces up on his Mother’s branch: not knowing this will be the last time we see a sunset on a beautiful day before the sunrise of another in the gift and curse of dusk to dawn where the unknown and frightening exist.
I hear, I listen, with delight I understand! That in the terrible last night looking for the fight I will see the last monster gazing back with no intention to hurt or end for all to nothing and maybe something new will come but that is not for us to know.
But there’s a Tree, of common, one, I’ve come to know as Eden the beginning filled with the knowledge all things once craved before life toke away the innocence that let us speak with our maker in the never dying land of light and life.