They pass away with brief regard
Their voices, their troubles quelled
They seem so small, inconsequential
For once eye to eye and equal stood
Once full of life and enthusiasm
Now drained of warmth, of spirit
Their sparkle dulled and dimmed
A fleeting cause, forgotten, fatal
The dead know no justice, no pain
They slumber eternally, free of care
Only we, the living take stock in it
A thin gap between living and the dead