BEFORE the abyss of the unanswering grave <br />Each mortal stands at last aloof, alone, <br />With his beloved one turned as deaf as stone, <br />However rebel love may storm and rave. <br />No will, however strong, avails to save <br />The wrecked identity knit to our own; <br />We may not hoard one treasured look or tone, <br />Dissolved in foam on Death's dissolving wave. <br /> <br />Is this the End? This handful of brown earth <br />For all releasing elements to take <br />And free for ever from the bonds of birth? <br />Or will true life from Life's disguises break, <br />Called to that vast confederacy of minds <br />Which casts all flesh as chaff to all the winds?<br /><br />Mathilde Blind<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mystery-of-mysteries/
