By Justin Permenter

There will come a last song
A requiem for the passing of an age
Its melody will echo across the great gulf of time
And testify to the bright beginning and wretched end of our kind

There will come a last word
A pledge, a plea, a promise to remember
When all else has moved beyond the forlorn gate
And memory itself is left orphaned beside the shore of a dying sea

There will come a last kiss
A tender brush of lovers’ lips
Beneath the shadow of a blackened sky
And storms which rend the scorched and dusty earth beneath their feet

There will come a last breath
A prayer spoken in plaintive whisper
Before cruel and howling winds drown out the sound
And extinguish the white-hot flame which once devoured worlds

Let They Who Come After
Shed no tears for our passing
May They reflect for but a moment
Upon who we were

And what we might have become