VINCENT

Life rises with no shadow but death,
With black clouds eclipses our sun.
Our volley of life deflected by plague,
To come back and seek what shall never be found.
Life rises in an abyss of death,
Like our sun behind our moon.
The seconds that passes by are our hope dwindling down the drain,
Like a black hole over its horizon.
Never seen again till it passes through,
Through the other side that is known,
Known to none, but only our hope.
Who survives through passage of time.