Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I knew the end had come, Such a ceremonious segway into death But after the pomp faded away Came long the mourning days. And in mourning, sorrows become dear I slowly forgot what death I mourn'd. Safely occupied by the copious comfort Speculating the new road I must walk alone. But now, as my soothing summer air turns chill, And the leaves shrivel and die, Each night marks the passing of another day Drawing nearer the dead's true end. It steals upon me, with insidious cunning A bitter cup I must partake, *I see the dead are not truly dead Until mourning is ended.* So I shall never cease to beg Heaven To send you back to me, I shall never cease to let these tears Of life and mourning free.
0
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
the dead are not truly dead
I knew the end had come, Such a ceremonious segway into death But after the pomp faded away Came long the mourning days. And in mourning, sorrows become dear I slowly forgot what death I mourn'd. Safely occupied by the copious comfort Speculating the new road I must walk alone. But now, as my soothing summer air turns chill, And the leaves shrivel and die, Each night marks the passing of another day Drawing nearer the dead's true end. It steals upon me, with insidious cunning A bitter cup I must partake, *I see the dead are not truly dead Until mourning is ended.* So I shall never cease to beg Heaven To send you back to me, I shall never cease to let these tears Of life and mourning free.
tilly-1
Written by
American
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem