Well, I wrote it in the wrong section, so I'm going to rewrite it here.

This is more of a free-style poem, no rhyme scheme, no structure really :P. Read it aloud slowly and then reread it. Try to interpret it. I think it is very good. 🙂
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'*=-The End-=*'

Death is a very significant event in our lives. In a way, our lives circle around it. It is the ending of life. What was created, must end. Is that how we were made? To live, to die?

Death is frightful, cheerless, depressing--to those that witness it. Death may be a relief to some. A salvation that will only come through their ending. Or it may be a passing, from one body to the next, one realm to yet another greater realm.

A great man may fall, while a lesser one prevails. Is this justice? Is the lesser then made greater by their persistence in their unholy deeds?

The reward of life is death.

Death comes to all, but what of the aftermath? Does it treat us the same regardless of our race, color, or faith? Then is there a purpose in living, if we are all treated to the same nothingness in the end?

The reward of life is death.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Aeguary, in the year 258 AF.