Death

Why is it a creature of God
Instinctively knows how to lay down
And die, blood draining from ears,
Mouth and eye, signs that its time
For the human to cry, cry for times
Good and bad gone by, in spite
Of the Hellish drift in the feline
As Phoenix, whose random birth
In innocence deserves no less than
A full, deep, heartfelt cry for what’s
Now lost, until visitation in eternity?