THE DAY OF RECKONING
Tell me, is the past dead forever?
Is Charon the boatman beckoning?
Are you dead? Is everything over?
Is this the Day of Reckoning?
— Time to open the envelope
And find out. It will all be written
There, whether there are grounds for hope
Or despair. Perhaps you’ll be smitten
With grief past bearing, petrified
In the hell pits of night, alone—
Sick, incontinent, stupefied
Under a dark demonic moon.
Animals, is this all we are?
Or is there perhaps a divine spark
To lend us some dignity down here
Before we go into the dark?