And certain is birth for the dead;
Therefore over the inevitable
Thou shouldst not grieve." Bhagavad Gita
Greetings
My name is Abaddon
Shall you come to me?
To my room?
Where the candles are lit
I'll greet you with a kiss
For I am yours
But not as a lover
I am the angel of death
Shall you take my hand
And venture with me to Hades?
To a place the dead are waiting
To leave for their final station
They will find their lives
In the balance and will see
All they have done
In judgment
Look over at that fellow
In the boat approaching here
Upon the sorrow shores
Of the Acheron river
Soon it will confluence with the Styx
Call upon Charon
The boatsman
His labor is unrewarding
His efforts are unappreciated
And he never rests
His body becomes emaciated
And withered
But there is no vacation
For the boatsman
The rivers still flow
And the died are forever arriving
Charon
You are wounded, and tired
One day your labors will not exhaust you
And upon that day
When the creator's will is victorious
And his war is won
The dead will stop dying
Charon you will finally sleep
And as for me
My job, too, will be done
"Never the spirit was born, the spirit shall cease to be never. Never was time it was not, end and beginning are dreams." Bhagavad Gita
