Aperion: There Is No End

Or, Life (Death) in A Nursing Home

To broken hips,
Or crud sealed lips,
To vacant eyes,
Who within lies
A spirit lost
Amid daily cost
Of person paid
Or one off laid.

Aperion! Aperion!
There is no end, Aperion!
To all the things life sucks from death!
To all the gold exhaled from breath!

A person, dross,
A life, no cost.
A hearse, reprieve,
To soul unseen,
Who sits alone
Within her home
With dozens who
Sit with her, too.

Aperion! Aperion!
There is no end, Aperion!
To all the things life sucks from death!
To all the gold exhaled from breath!

To profit from
A life that's done,
Almost, at least,
For soon will cease
The life and breath,
For him near death
The gold will last,
Past spirit passed

The Pearly Gates,
For body baits
The worm to chew
Upon a stew
Of flesh and blood
Till flame and flood
Make gold again
For wicked men

To tread and trade
Till all is made
To look upon
The Holy Throne
When all at last
Was will and past,
And die is live
And curse forgive.

Aperion! Aperion!
There is no end, Aperion!
To all the things life sucks from death!
To all the gold exhaled from breath!

Aperion,
Thy will be done
For now, today,
But 'morrow stays.
For life is life,
And never ends;
When breath shall end,
New breath begins.

Aperion! Aperion!
There is no end, Aperion!
To all the things life sucks from death!
To all the gold exhaled from breath!

Today the milk
From cups is spilt,
Poured one by one
And cold undone,
For routine changed
By crows who reign
On holy trees
By State's decree.

Aperion! Aperion!
There is no end, Aperion!
To all the things life sucks from death!
To all the gold exhaled from breath!

And now it comes,
Their lives are done,
No call no show
They're dead and so
The Living's foe
Can end their show
Of caring that
They even know

That this old man
Now old, once young,
With friends, career
And song unsung,
With no kin left,
Does pray for death,
And marches through
The hall where to

He finds the bed
Where he will wed
His spirit to
The Lord of Dead,
And there release
(Though body ceased)
His spirit to
The Lord who bled

Young boy, now old,
In Aperion's hold,
Don't wait for top
Of morning's cold,
But march into
The Love you knew
At mother's breast
Who first you blessed.

Aperion! Aperion!
There is no end, Aperion!
To all the things life sucks from death!
To all the gold exhaled from breath!

Your father, too,
Will wait for you
There by the Lord
Who can afford
To pay for care
For every hair
Upon your head
He counts, though dead.

Your spirit fled
From body, dead;
Your emptied ghost
From corporal host
Is free, so run
Into the sun.
Aperion's end
Is now your friend.