Postmortem

a slow song
by a dead friend
rings around the walls

guitar riffs
strum a mourning
for the last days of his life

the last pages of his story
always make me think of my own

death makes no mistakes
not a single one

and so
i am grateful to be sad
as i miss my friend

i am grateful that my own mortality
has not yet been seized

for one more night
i am still here
to play the music of a man who's
gone