Silent tears fall,
Heart feels heavy,
Mind in turmoil,
Darkness surrounds,
Hope seems distant,
Lost and alone,
Searching for light,
Fighting the shadows,
Strength within,
Rising again.

In a world so vast and wide,
Seeking answers, yet they hide,
In the shadows of my mind.
Paths diverge, which way to go?
Questions linger, answers slow,
Heart and mind in constant fight,
Searching for a guiding light.
Dreams and hopes, they intertwine,
In this maze, I seek a sign,
To find my way, to understand,
The mysteries of this land.
Yet in confusion, there’s a spark,
A chance to make a brand new mark,
For in the chaos, I might find,
A clearer path, a peace of mind.
But now I walk this road alone,
Since fate has taken you, my own,
Your memory, a guiding star,
Though you’re gone, you’re never far.
In the silence, I hear your voice,
In the darkness, I make a choice,
To carry on, though heart does ache,
For your love, my soul’s awake.
With God’s support, I find my way,
Through nights so dark, and brightest day,
Heaven waits, a promise true,
One day, my love, I’ll be with you.

Silent dusk, spirit fades away,
Echoes of laughter lost in grey.
Who will remember, when shadows fall,
When the night whispers, and memories call?

Will the dawn recall the stories told,
Of dreams that shimmered, of hearts so bold?
Will the stars above mourn the light they shone,
When s/he is forever gone?

In the rustling leaves, will there be left a song?
A melody forgotten in time’s long throng.
Will the roses bloom where footsteps led,
Or wilt in silence, their petals spread?

Will the winds carry whispers of names,
Or will they drift, untouched by fame?
In the tears that fall, will there be any trace,
Or in the laughter, a fleeting embrace?

Who will remember the love often shared,
The warmth of a heart that always cared?
In the end, as the curtain is drawn,
Who will remember, when you are gone?

Each dawn's light brings a humble prayer to rise,
Three hundred sixty-five, my soul's delight.
In whispers soft, I seek the heavenly skies,
And call His name, my faith to reignite.

At dusk when shadows gently claim the day,
I find His grace within the twilight's glow.
In every beat, my heart does earnestly pray,
For Jesus' love, the sweetest gift I know.

Through trials faced and joys that brightly gleam,
His name I speak with reverence and peace.
In every moment, waking or in dream,
I find my solace, and my doubts release.

For every day, I humbly bow and seek,
The name of Jesus, comfort to the meek.

In Albion’s realm, where misty moors do lie,
‘Neath ancient oak and silver sky,
A question stirs in hearts so deep,
A debate where souls and morals meet.

In halls of law and homes alike,
Where whispers rise and thoughts take flight,
Assisted dying’s call is heard,
In hushed tones and measured word.

Through corridors of time we trace,
From Hippocratic oaths to modern grace,
A journey long, both fierce and bright,
Through shadows cast by life’s last light.

In England’s green and pleasant land,
Where life and death do hand in hand,
A plea for mercy, calm and kind,
In final moments, peace to find.

For those who suffer, bodies frail,
With voices weak and faces pale,
A choice they seek, with dignity,
To end their pain, to set them free.

Yet in this isle of storied past,
Where traditions hold and shadows cast,
A struggle brews, both old and new,
Of ethics deep and justice true.

The lawmakers and healers stand,
With heavy hearts and steady hand,
To ponder laws and futures bright,
In sleepless thoughts through endless night.

For some do fear a slippery *****,
Where lives are weighed with loss of hope,
And others see compassion’s glow,
In helping those who wish to go.

Within the courts, the voices blend,
Of those who seek life’s gentle end,
And those who guard with fervent plea,
The sanctity of life’s decree.

In parlours warm and hospital halls,
The echoes rise of earnest calls,
For choice and freedom, calm and clear,
To face the end without the fear.

Yet also rings the cautioned cry,
Of hasty laws and who decide,
For life’s great gift, both pure and bright,
Must not be dimmed in darkest night.

Oh Albion, with heart so fair,
In this debate, take utmost care,
For every life, a tale profound,
In every heart, a sacred ground.

So let the voices blend as one,
In search of wisdom, never done,
To find a path both just and true,
In shadows cast by life’s last view.

Through trials hard and thoughts so deep,
In sleepless nights and dreams that keep,
May mercy guide, with steady hand,
In life’s great arc, from birth to sand.

Oh, Heavenly Father, light our way,
With wisdom’s glow, both night and day,
Grant us the grace to choose what’s right,
In shadows cast by life’s last light.

In Albion’s realm, where misty moors do lie,
May wisdom reign and spirits fly,
For in this choice, both grave and bright,
Lies the soul of mercy’s light.

Why do we poison the air we breathe,
The water we drink,
The soil beneath our feet?

The stars, aloof and ancient,
Smile down with silent knowing,
As we unreeve our cradle's threads,
And stain the blue with our discord.

Why do we strip the forests bare,
Choke the rivers with our refuse?

In the lap of the Milky Way,
We are a fragile gem, unique, irreplaceable.

Yet, we smother the sky in smog,
Turn the seas into desolate deserts,
As if we could find another oasis
In the cold expanse.

Once, we cherished the golden dawn,
The twilight’s tender embrace.
Now, we blindfold our eyes
To the beauty we obliterate.

Why do we forget our duty
To nurture, to protect, to love?

Our home, the whispering Earth,
Begs for compassion,
Yet we answer with apathy.

There is no other refuge,
No second chance among the stars.
Our planet, vibrant and alive,
Cries for mercy,

Yet

We plunder,

We pillage,

We proceed.

In the silence of the cosmos,
A solitary plea resounds,
Why do we destroy the only home
That cradles us, in infinite bound?

In twenty-four, the streets aflame
a tempest brewed, a nation’s shame.
Southport’s wounds still fresh and raw,
three children lost their lives, a flaw.
False whispers spread through cyberspace,
the stabber’s name, a twisted chase.
Muslim, seeker, both or none
the spark ignited, chaos spun.
England, torn by fear and hate,
far-right voices, venom’s weight.
Riots surged from Southport’s core,
a wildfire leaping, burning more.
Arson’s dance, a crimson waltz,
shops looted, streets in tumult’s pulse.
Police van torched, officers besieged,
a fractured nation, wounds unseized.
Islamophobia’s venom seeped,
racist fervour, hatred steeped.
Disinformation’s murky tide,
Russia’s whispers amplified.
Yet amidst the flames, a counterforce—
Stand Up to Racism, voices hoarse.
Anti-fascists, Muslims, too,
clashed with rioters, hearts askew.
In this fractured hour, we seek the light,
to mend the rifts, reclaim the night.
For England’s soul, a plea resounds:
heal the wounds, find common grounds.
I stand against the darkness,
where prejudice and anger collide.
My words, a beacon of empathy,
a bridge across the chasm wide.
For love knows no division,
no borders drawn by fear.
In unity, we find strength,
and hate dissolves when love is near.
So let us rise above the chaos,
embrace compassion’s flame.
Together, we’ll extinguish hate
and heal the wounds that bear our name.

It was January last Wednesday,
When the moon turned bright green,
The stars danced a tango,
And the sun wore a sheen.
The clouds sang a lullaby,
To the mountains so high,
While the rivers played hopscotch,
With the fishes passing by.
The trees whispered secrets,
To the birds in the air,
And the flowers wore hats,
Made of chocolate eclairs.
The wind told a joke,
That made the rocks laugh,
And the grass did a jig,
On the giraffe’s behalf.
So if you see a rainbow,
On a snowy summer’s day,
Just remember this tale,
Of January last Wednesday.

Drip, drip, hope flows in,
Silent strength in every drop,
Warrior within.

In the corners of a bustling day,
A chance encounter, a smile, a simple "Hey."
Two paths converging, like rivers that blend,
In that moment, I found a new friend.

Eyes that sparkle with stories untold,
A heart that's warm, a spirit bold.
Laughter shared over coffee and tea,
In your company, I feel truly free.

We talk of dreams, of hopes, and fears,
Of past adventures, and future years.
In your presence, time seems to bend,
For in you, I've found a kindred friend.

Through ups and downs, through thick and thin,
With you, I know, we both will win.
A bond that's strong, a hand to lend,
In you, I've found a lifelong friend.

So here's to us, to new beginnings,
To shared moments, and endless winnings.
In the tapestry of life, a beautiful blend,
For in you, I've found a true friend.

Endless night, no rest,
Silent screams within the dark,
Mind adrift, alone.

It feels like I am wading through treacle,
Each step a sticky, slow-motion sequel.
My shoes are glued, my socks are too,
Even my thoughts are stuck like glue.

I try to run, but it’s more of a shuffle,
Every move met with a sweet sticky scuffle.
The world around me speeds on by,
While I’m trapped in this syrupy lie.

Friends wave hello, then quickly disappear,
As I trudge along, year after year.
But in this molasses, I find some cheer,
For life’s sweet moments are always quite near.

So I laugh at my plight, in this treacle-bound tale,
And embrace the slow, the sticky, the snail.
For in this gooey mess, I’ve found my pace,
A humorous journey, in a treacle-filled space.

We are bound as one,
In shared breaths, life’s circle flows,
Ubuntu’s light shines.

I think I got a little bit smelly,
From running around and being so silly.
But a splash of water and a bit of soap,
Will freshen me up, I surely hope.

With bubbles and laughter, I’ll scrub away,
The grime and the dirt from my playful day.
And soon I’ll be clean, from head to toe,
Ready for more adventures, let’s go!

Day Fades
Twilight takes
Stars chase
Pillows soft
Dreams aloft
Moonlight dances
Silver calls
Night whispers
Guide to sleep
Blankets wrap
Warm and Tight
Night guardians
Eyes heavy
Breathing slows
Slumbers arms
Gently sleep
Tomorrow waits
For now, Rest Quiet
Dream far and free
As stars watch

Laughter fills the air,
Joy in every leap and bound,
Playtime knows no care.

I'd like a crack at Beatha's crack,
But Beatha's crack is for thee.
Her smile's a treasure, a shining stack,
Locked away, just out of reach for me.

In pens’ ancient dance,
syllables twirl, rhythm breaks
not quite five-seven-five.

A zephyr whispers, bees awake,
But flowers hide for heaven’s sake.
Quick jabs of heat scorch dry land,
Yearn for lush, green fields, now bland.

Global warming brings such doom,
Vexes earth, steals nature’s bloom.
Fuzzy insects fight to find,
Their nectar kiss now left behind.

Polluted air and smoky skies,
Jails of human greed and lies.
Bold actions needed, none too late,
X-ray eyes to see our fate.

Who am I?

In this world of guises and shadows,
Where whispers shape the air,
I seek a route less travelled,
A passage bold and rare.
To drop the weight of others’ dreams,
And walk my own right way,
To find the light within my spirit,
And let it guide my day.
No more the ties of expectancy,
Nor the fear of being seen,
I accept my imperfections,
In the quest to just be me.

With bravery as my compass,
And honesty my guiding star,
I walk into the unknown,
To discover who I am.
For in the heart of truthfulness,
Lies a freedom pure and bright,
A life lived in truth,
A beacon in the fight
So here I stand, unguarded,
With a spirit wild and free,
In the beauty of my essence,
I just want to be me.

In waters deep, you took the dive,
Emerging new, with spirits alive.
In Christ’s embrace, your path now lies,
With His light guiding your skies.

Through days of joy and nights of doubt,
Remember what this day’s about.
In trials tough and moments sweet,
Christ walks with you, His love replete.

With every step, in faith you grow,
In His footsteps, you will know
The grace, the peace, the endless care,
A life in Him beyond compare.

Stand firm, be bold, let courage rise,
For in His eyes, you’re the priceless prize.
In service, love, and truth be found,
With Christ’s own light, forever crowned.

In the velvet dark of nightfall’s embrace,
Stars awaken, each in their place.
Whispers of twilight, soft and serene,
Paint the sky in a midnight sheen.

Moonlight dances on silken waves,
Casting shadows in hidden caves.
Crickets sing their lullaby tune,
Under the watchful eye of the moon.

The world slows down, in gentle repose,
Dreams unfurl as the night wind blows.
In the velvet dark, hearts find peace,
A moment of stillness, a sweet release.

Johnny Cash, the Man in Black,
With a voice that told of every track.
From Folsom Prison to Ring of Fire,
His songs of life never tire.

My sister was washing her drive,
With soap and a hose, she’d strive.
But a splash from the spray,
Sent her hat far away,
And she laughed as she felt so alive!

In the tapestry of life, threads woven tight,
Three sisters stand, a bond of light.
Each one unique, a story to tell,
Together, a symphony, a magical spell.

In childhood’s realm, we played and dreamed,
Laughter echoed, our spirits gleamed.
Through fields of green and skies so blue,
We found our world, just us few.

Eldest sister, wise and strong,
A guiding star, where we belong.
Her voice, a melody, calm and clear,
In her embrace, we knew no fear.

Middle sister, heart so pure,
A gentle soul, love’s true allure.
Her laughter, a song, bright and free,
In her presence, joy’s decree.

Youngest sister, wild and bold,
A spirit fierce, a heart of gold.
Her dreams, a fire, burning bright,
In her eyes, the world’s delight.

Through storms and trials, we held tight,
In each other’s arms, we found our might.
When tears did fall, and shadows grew,
Together, we faced the world anew.

In whispered secrets, shared at night,
In moments of sorrow, moments of fright,
We found our strength, in love’s embrace,
Three sisters, a bond time can’t erase.

Now grown and scattered, paths diverge,
Yet in our hearts, a constant surge.
For love remains, a timeless thread,
Binding us, though words unsaid.

In every smile, in every tear,
In every triumph, every fear,
The love of sisters, pure and true,
A beacon bright, in all we do.

So here’s to you, my sisters dear,
In every moment, far or near.
For in this life, one truth I see,
The love of my sisters, forever with me.

I am scraping my car windows, my fingers cold as ice,
The morning air is biting, a chill that isn't nice.

The engine hums to life, a breath of warmth inside,
But out here in the frosty dawn, there's nowhere to hide.

The world is still and quiet, a frozen, silent scene,
The sun begins to rise, casting a golden sheen.

I finish up my task, my breath a steamy cloud,
Ready to face the day, feeling strong, feeling proud.

It broke, it broke, the teapot spoke,
In a language only kettles know.
The saucer sighed, the cup just cried,
And the sugar bowl put on a show.
The spoon did dance, a silver prance,
While the fork played a tune on the side.
The knife, so sharp, began to harp,
About the time it nearly died.
The clock struck twelve, the mouse did delve,
Into a cheese that wasn’t there.
The cat meowed, the dog just howled,
At the moon that hung in the air.
The table shook, the cookbook took,
A leap into the soup ***’s arms.
The chair did spin, the broom jumped in,
And the mop sang of distant farms.
The windowpane, it felt the strain,
Of the wind that whispered tales.
The curtain swayed, the dust parade,
Marched on with tiny tails.
The lamp did flicker, the shadows bicker,
About who was the darkest of all.
The rug did slide, the floor just sighed,
As the pictures began to fall.
The doorbell rang, the toaster sang,
A song of burnt toast and jam.
The fridge did hum, the blender spun,
And the microwave said, “Wham!”
The house did creak, the hinges squeak,
In a symphony of sounds so grand.
The walls did laugh, the chimney chaff,
At the antics of this merry band.
It broke, it broke, the teapot spoke,
In a world where nonsense reigns.
But in the end, my dear old friend,
It’s the joy that does remain.

Heavy eyes,
                      The night's embrace,
Waning strength,
                      A slowing pace.
Dreams call softly,
                     “Pull me near,”
Exhaustion whispers,
                      "Rest is here."

There once was a mosquito named Jack,
Who bit in the small of my back.
I scratched and I swore,
As she flew out the door,
Leaving me with an itchy attack!

****** Mosquitos – Literally

In the town of Loughborough, where sheep
Outnumber people, and the rain falls soft,
There lived a man named Bob, who had a dream
To build a rocket ship from old tin cans

He scoured the town for parts, a toaster here,
A broken vacuum there, and soon enough,
His yard became a scrapyard, much to the
Dismay of Mrs. Crumble next door.

“Bob, what on earth are you up to?” she’d shout,
As he welded bits of metal in the night.
“I’m off to Mars, dear Crumble, can’t you see?
I’ve got a date with destiny and stars!”

The townsfolk gathered 'round to watch the show,
As Bob unveiled his masterpiece of junk.
With duct tape, glue, and hope, he climbed inside,
And pressed a button labelled “Up We Go!”

The rocket sputtered, coughed, and then it soared,
A tin can comet streaking through the sky.
The sheep looked up, bemused, and chewed their cud,
While Mrs. Crumble fainted on the spot.

Bob’s rocket flew past clouds and birds and planes,
And soon enough, he found himself in space.
He marvelled at the stars, the moon, the Earth,
And thought, “Well, this is quite a lovely view.”

But then he heard a clank, a groan, a snap,
And realized his ship was failing fast.
He grabbed a wrench, a hammer, and some tape,
And tried to fix the mess he’d made of things.

Alas, poor Bob, his rocket was no match
For gravity’s relentless, mighty pull.
He crash-landed in a farmer’s field of corn,
And crawled out, dazed, but grinning ear to ear.

The farmer scratched his head and asked,
“What now?” Bob laughed and said, “I think I’ll try again.
But first, a cup of tea, a nap, and then,
I’ll build a better rocket, just you wait!”

And so, in Loughborough, the legend grew,
Of Bob, the man who aimed to reach the stars,
With nothing but his wits, some junk, and dreams,
And made the town a little brighter too.

In the early hours, before the dawn,
A mother’s work is never gone.
With gentle hands and heart so true,
She faces tasks that few would do.

A cry of need, a diaper’s call,
She rushes in, she handles all.
Poo and ***, the daily grind,
Yet in her eyes, love you’ll find.

The messes made, the spills and stains,
She cleans with care, she never complains.
For in each chore, a bond is built,
A mother’s love, without guilt.

Puke on the floor, a fevered brow,
She soothes with whispers, here and now.
Through sleepless nights and endless days,
Her strength and grace, a constant praise.

She wipes the tears, she calms the fears,
Through every stage, through all the years.
Her love endures, through thick and thin,
A mother’s heart, where life begins.

So, here’s to mums, in all they do,
In every mess, they see it through.
For in the poo, the ***, the puke,
They find the joy, the love, the truth.

The star shines bright on Bethlehem’s night,
Angels sing of Christ’s birth,
Shepherds gather in humble delight,
Peace and joy fill the earth.

Angels sing of Christ’s birth,
A Saviour born to set us free,
Peace and joy fill the earth,
In a manger, love’s decree.

A Saviour born to set us free,
Wise men travel from afar,
In a manger, love’s decree,
Guided by the shining star.

Wise men travel from afar,
Shepherds gather in humble delight,
Guided by the shining star,
The star shines bright on Bethlehem’s night.

In the heart of the kitchen,
where pots clatter and steam whispers,
there lies a tale of humble beginnings,
a saga of peas and ham,
a symphony of flavours,
a dance of the mundane and the marvellous.

Oh, Pea and Ham Soup,
you are the unsung hero of the pantry,
the green knight in a ceramic bowl,
the warm embrace on a cold, dreary day.

Once upon a time,
in a land of bubbling broths,
a lonely pea dreamed of greatness,
of joining forces with the mighty ham,
to create a potion of comfort,
a brew of bliss.

The peas, so green and round,
rolled into the *** with a plop,
like tiny emeralds diving into a sea of broth,
their destiny intertwined with the smoky ham,
a partnership forged in the cauldron of culinary magic.

The ham, oh the ham,
with its rich, savoury whispers,
joined the peas with a sizzle, a pop, and a bang,
bringing tales of smoky adventures,
of hickory forests and salty seas.

Together they simmered,
in a slow waltz of flavours,
the peas softening,
the ham infusing,
a marriage of textures,
a union of taste.

Garlic and onions,
the mischievous twins,
danced around the ***,
adding their own flair,
a hint of mischief,
a touch of zest.

Carrots and celery,
the reliable companions,
joined the fray,
bringing crunch and colour,
a rainbow in the ***,
a feast for the eyes.

The broth bubbled and gurgled,
like a storyteller weaving a yarn,
each bubble a chapter,
each gurgle a verse,
in the epic of Pea and Ham Soup.

And when the time was right,
the ladle dipped in,
bringing forth a spoonful of history,
a taste of tradition,
a sip of solace.

Oh, Pea and Ham Soup,
you are more than just a meal,
you are a memory,
a comfort,
a friend.

In the quiet of the kitchen,
as the last spoonful is savoured,
the tale of Pea and Ham Soup lingers,
a story told in flavours,
a poem written in broth.

Golden sun sets low,
Waves whisper secrets to shore,
Peace in twilight’s glow.

Restless night lingers,
Moonlight whispers secrets soft,
Eyes wide, dreams adrift.

In a peaceful room with candles aglow,
She works her magic, gentle and slow.
Her hands, like whispers, glide with grace,
Easing tension, finding the place.

With soothing oils, she starts her art,
A dance of fingers, a healer’s heart.
Knots unravel, stress takes flight,
In her touch, the world feels right.

She exfoliates with tender care,
Removing worries, layer by layer.
A scrub of salt, a touch so kind,
Leaving softness, and peace of mind.

Her presence calm, her spirit bright,
In her hands, the day turns light.
This lady masseuse, with skill so true,
Bringing comfort, renewing you.

In dreams, she floats on rivers made of light,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
A girl with eyes like kaleidoscopes,
She wanders through a land of cellophane flowers,
Where colours blend and dance in harmony.
The sun, a golden orb, smiles down on her,
As rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.
She drifts past fields of towering blooms,
Their petals whispering secrets to the wind.
In this surreal world, time stands still,
And newspaper taxis wait by the shore,
To carry her to realms unknown and vast,
Where imagination reigns supreme and free.
Lucy, in the sky with diamonds bright,
A symbol of the wonder in our minds,
She guides us through the labyrinth of dreams,
Where every turn reveals a new delight.

Quiet moments still,
Peaceful breaths in twilight’s glow,
Rest renews the soul.

In the land of tea and crumpets, where politics is a game,
The voters cast their ballots, but the outcome was quite tame.
Labour claimed a victory, with cheers and loud applause,
Yet the vote count barely shifted, leaving many to pause.

“How did they win?” the pundits cried, “With numbers so petite?”
“Did the Tories take a holiday, or just admit defeat?”
The headlines screamed of triumph, a red wave on the rise,
But in the voting booths, it seemed, there was no such surprise.

The leaders took to Twitter, with hashtags and with glee,
“Democracy has spoken!” they declared for all to see.
But whispers in the corridors, and murmurs in the halls,
Spoke of a quiet victory, with margins thin and small.

So here’s to the election, where the numbers stayed the same,
Yet somehow Labour triumphed, in this curious political game.
For in the world of politics, where logic often bends,
A win is still a win, my friends, no matter how it ends.

I kissed a girl, I kissed a guy,
Underneath the twilight sky.
With stars above and hearts so high,
We danced until the night passed by.
In moments shared, no need to lie,
Just pure connection, you and I.
With every touch, a gentle sigh,
A bond that words could not deny.
Through laughter, tears, and dreams that fly,
Together, we could reach the sky.
In love’s embrace, we both comply,
A perfect match, a sweet reply.

Bare trees greet the chill,
Frosty breath on winter's morn,
Hello, still and cold.

Through storms, Christ sustains,
In shadows, His light remains,
Peace and hope, He reigns.

In fields untamed, free,
Petals dance with morning breeze,
Nature's spirit wild.

In the heart of a bustling city,  
Where time seemed still, so pretty,  
A library stood, small and quaint,  
With scents of books, ink, and paint.

But this was no ordinary place,  
It held a secret, a magical grace.  
At midnight’s chime, it came alive,  
Books would whisper, stories thrive.

Characters stepped from pages bright,  
Wandering aisles in the moonlight.  
A young girl named Lily, pure and keen,  
Found this library, like a dream.

She loved to read, her heart’s delight,  
And on that special, starry night,  
She saw the books with a gentle glow,  
Curiosity sparked, she had to know.

She touched a book, and to her surprise,  
Was pulled into a world before her eyes.  
A forest magical, creatures grand,  
Talking animals, a wondrous land.

A wise old owl, with feathers gray,  
Guided her through the forest way.  
He spoke of magic, stories’ might,  
And the library’s secret, hidden in light.

Lily explored, her heart so light,  
Meeting characters, day and night.  
Learning lessons, brave and true,  
In worlds of wonder, skies so blue.

As dawn approached, with gentle grace,  
She found herself back in the place,  
Holding the book, still softly bright,  
Her heart aglow with pure delight.

From that day on, each night she’d go,  
To the enchanted library, where stories flow.  
Adventures endless, wonders vast,  
In the world of books, her love would last.

The eternal mystery, where life’s journey finds its boundary. A passage from this earthly plane to realms unknown, where souls remain.

Death
In shadows deep, we contemplate,
the final breath, the closing gate.
Yet in this stillness, hope does bloom,
the promise of life beyond the tomb.

Grief
A tempest in the heart,
tears that flow when loved ones depart.
Memories etched upon our souls,
their laughter, touch, and whispered goals.

Faith
A beacon in the night,
guides us through the darkest fight.
For death is but a transient shore,
and love endures forevermore.

So let us honour those who’ve flown,
their legacy in stories sown,
and as we weep, we also find,
that death is not the end of mind.

For in the vastness of the skies,
their spirits dance, forever rise.
And though we mourn, we also know,
they’ve found a home where angels go.

In the hush of night, when stars align,
we sense a peace that's near divine.
For death's not just an end, but start,
a journey of the eternal heart.

In every tear, a love's embrace,
In every fear, a hidden grace.
For those we've lost, we'll meet again,
in realms of light, without the pain.