The Silver Spectrum

The silver spectrum,  
Shiny, dull, ingrained shades  
Betwixt black and white,  
Were aged as  
To coin cheap change,  
Like a toss-up  
Between life and death,  
As coffins sparkle luster  
From skeletal forms inside,  
In the difference between  
   
Gargoyles and graves,  
Holding spirits at bay  
Presumably sacred,  
Had fault lines, fallen,  
A forgotten infallibility,  
When the exchange rate  
Of a hearse spikes  
To the plummet of  
Funeral, burial,  
Pastoral eulogy.  
   
When I am dead,  
The cost of living,  
Life insurance,  
The only fabric  
Of self-worth,  
Add rest, and the past,  
With a body,  
For the ancient ritual  
Surmising sun's rise and  
Set has run out.  
   
To covet the dark release  
Of tempting bones  
Like skull and cross  
Jewelry,  
Piercing ears with  
Dissonant death,    
Noisy static,  
Signified stasis,  
Above what is below,  
Conceived.  
   
Such a bleak  
Overtone, as at least,  
I could have reflected the  
Stale stones that  
Beheld my soul,  
Lest the irony of  
Transposed matter  
Was obscure, and not a  
Give or take of  
Holy environs.  
   
Perhaps, I am unworthy of  
Gold, yet the trials had  
Surfaced the  
Dross to be purified,  
And awaiting the end,  
Mortality, breech,  
I beseeched Yahweh,  
Beckoned for Elohim,  
In a purpose beyond  
Heaps of dirt and decay.  
   
There, I'll  
Lay sound, asleep,  
Awaiting the trumpet  
Of an echoing dawn,  
A new day to  
Live once again,  
As down the path of  
Faith is the chance to  
Fathom rainbows, alive.