Death of Youth

When beauty dies with laugh and applause.
When fingers mark at the commas pause.
When understanding take’s its leave.
When the pointed to must turn to grieve.
When all is lost and no one cares
And every sound is a heart that tears. 
When the sun decides against its rise
And night sustains the broken cries.
When the brave of youth are broken down
And left a shell without a crown
When brilliance of future breaks down to ash
And what is to come is a mirror of past
That is the moment where old men are born
It comes on too quickly to properly mourn
Killed at the height of the glory one made,
The life of the youth doesn’t die by the blade