Omnipotence

The icicle rain speared into the open grave,
Forming a murky river that began to fill in space.
The sodden sides began to crumble,
The falling chunks drowning insects in the deepening puddle.
The empty coffin that had been pried open,
Lay stinking and ominous.
The funeral bouquets were dead and scattered,
Their stems trampled,
Their petals brown
All their beauty lost to the ground.
Omnipotence filled the grace
The puddles growing with the omniscient rain.
An empty coffin, ripped apart,
Lay stinking and ominous
The dead dear to depart.