Under a great oak wood by our cliff
sunset rays pierce through
rainbow chuff and widespread arms
and spinning bare feet on damp grass

I direly miss
rolling around
playing with my cat
sleeping at dawn
getting up after dark

The ashes of the past
cover me pale from head to toe
I don't belong here
in renditions of times ago

How does one find the rhythm to write
How do they with the ink pen define
Emptiness so sudden and still rhyme?

They forgot tenth-grade poetry class
Their certificate will gather dust
Yet they still author a tale of heart

Stanzas, lines and rhymes: these they know well
But inside they don't want to reflect
They want to soak the pages red

So how does one find the rhythm of life
How do they make it all rhyme
And still recover their long lost smile?

The day has been long
And the toil has proven hard
But in the end, all for which we have labored,
in whose harvest we placed great hope,
was indeed fruitful
While there were losses and betrayers
We kept firm the lesson in our hearts and minds
and it has guarded us all this time
Even as we bid thee a goodnight
know that just as dark falls heavy on lands over yonder
and similarly harks the call of light come the morn
so must you cherish hope in barren times
that the end is far from thee
for after darkness, a new light ever is foreseen