You Were Built for Death

You were built for death -
And nobody can tell you what that means
'Til you come face-to-face with it -
Suspended on your own two feet
And which wide way is up
Cannot be said for certain.
You were built for death -
And now Hope, mourning in her black dress, seems
To kneel beside you in the grit -
The year your soul will stand and meet
The emptying of your cup
Of dirt, that baneful curtain.
"You were built from death -
And from the depths of death you shall return,
Eventually, in time.” she says -
“And so, you’ll come to understand
That loyalty was stripped
In choosing it in time…”
“For you were built for it.” -
The bell from the cathedral dulls the air
Pushing you to your grass-stained knees -
For there, you hear a still, small voice
Ascending from within:
Please, don’t forget about me…
You were built for Hope -
Your lover, friend, and strangest comforter
That wins you to your laying down -
Such grief demands a notary
And who would lift the pen
But Hope herself in mercy?
“You were built for more.” -
The long grey line of kin and ancestors
Welcome you to a sacrifice -
The badge of sorrow that you wear,
And as you dig the grave,
Hope wields a second shovel.
“You were built for life.” -
And now your work is yet to be complete:
A stone façade or something real -
You find that you can take the hit
And through your ringing ears
You find that you survive it.