Which Is It?

            this is life
hiding behind the alphabet of conjecture
expanding into chaos with an index
cometing straight for inexistence
kicked by a god doing God’s job
                this is death
crawling careless through conscious
eating into the sides of calendar boxes
unforgiven under the macroscopic lens
a parasite feeding off the nature of rebellion
                this is life
sleeping under the covers of purgatory
tucked in tight with fresh cement
never waking any closer to an end
but reprieve escaping the lie of dreams
                this is death
wearing a four-letter oxymoronic prank
juking poster-sized picket-sign displays
absconding headlines in politic disguise
every executioner has a hood to lower
                this is life
by name
                this is death
in truth
                this is death
ensued
                this life
                                without a soul