—
Since life is but a mist that burns away,
A blossom that delights a day, then goes.
And since the barn’s ablaze and we are hay,
The condor e’er awaits because it knows.
We’re helpless ‘fore the ever watching eyes;
Each is exposed as in the noonday sun
One’s shadow clings no matter how he tries –
Appointment in Samarra – none can run.
Death perches near to pluck our bodies bare,
Bereft of life as idols are of gods.
The sword of Damocles hangs by a hair;
Grim Reaper, with his scythe, fore’er marauds.
Death’s always hanging over each of us;
Its touch before is slight, then ponderous.
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photo by Elvis Santana at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oosvh1O/california+condor+2
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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.
The Bard on the Hill 
Well, this definitely ought to give people cause to think. I sometimes wonder what all these baby killers really do believe about where they’re headed after they leave this life. It’s almost like they think they’re not going to die and have to face any kind of reality.
I wrote a poem once about “everybody is going to heaven” and it’s posted here. It’s the attitude everybody has these days. Somebody dies and they’ve were a horrible person in many ways and suddenly they were just wonderful. It’s as if death washes away all sins.
Yes, I see that attitude is rampant in our society and it aggravates and saddens me at the same time.
I don’t think Baghdadi went to heaven and I’d say the 72 virgins promised failed to show up anyway.
No, he went from fire here to an eternal fire of the hottest sort for people who are wicked like he was.