Everything and everyone you love goes away in the end

My voice is cracked from crying
Who then will sing your dirge
It's hard to speak or say goodbye
Or stop my hands from trembling

Tears roll down as we shared the grace
I try to sing but start to cry
Now I stare at a soulless face
Hoping that somehow 'tis all a lie

Dressed in white, your arms by your side
The door is closed as you take a ride
To an Isle that lies beyond the road
A road there is with no return
A place that someday even I will follow

While I can't tell you how I feel
At least I can write you a song
That those who hear ur Epicedium
Will cry for then they know
An angel had left for home

Bits and pieces
Words and phrases
A title or an end
A rhyme in the middle
A poem a prose a song maybe
Metaphors and sarcasm,
A flow in the tone
Colors, places
A warm thought or faces
A pen a paper
A quiet place to think
These are battles of thoughts
In the mind of a poet

The value of art
Lies not in its beauty
But in its flaws
It's not about the perfection
But its mistakes
It's not about the art itself
Or the story it tells
The true value of art
Is how it makes you feel

There are stories in the mirror
I read them everyday
Each day a new story
Different from yesterday's

Each day I read something new
But some stories turn out blue
Each mirror tells a story
To a stranger or friend
The stories they tell
Are different but never end

Each mirror tells a story
When it's in the light
But grows quiet and cold
If the moon is in sight

There are stories in the mirror
I hear them all the time
Just look in the closet
They are waiting to be told

Summer time has come at last
Spring is gone
And I'm alone
Wake me up
When it's September

Here I am so Innocent
But the Innocent
They never rest
Don't wake me up
If all I have is gone

It's like I've met
My own demise
The end at last is here

I can live with my demons
But those angels
Are the ones I dread
Wake me up
If heaven isn't real

I've worked so hard
For so long
To be the best
In what I do
But all I do
Never seems enough

Now at last
I go to rest
Hoping that
It's just a dream
Don't wake me up
Till September comes

A caterpillar needs to die
To become a butterfly
Only then can it fly