Fall of the Corpse

I see the man’s anguish
Abruptly disturbed by the deep silence
There he is vanished after having contemplated
Face-to-face the restlessness of the world
Before what’s lying beyond
The smell of white roses fills the air
Calm and sweet is its perfume
Of terrifying and chaotic manner
Neither the prince
Nor his siblings got dressed
This way
In memory to a perished brother
With the face pale as silver
Down there is the last inhabitant
Of the fraternal chain
Master of the desolation
In the temple that one day had the sacred word
And now just
This fraternal kiss
Under lute sounds
Will follow his final legacy