All that was born in fire
finds its rest eternal
in ash.
Even the brightest
lightning
vanishes in merely
but a flash.
Even the loudest
thunder
falls as silence
on deaf ears.

They do not smell
her smoky
fragrance..
Do not see her
coming..
And the echo
of her
footsteps
they can’t hear.

Until it’s far too late
to revel
in her beauty..
when
The Muse of Death
is here.