"this decaying body;"
Melody W 

Where once
there were four,
now three remain

lone spirits traipsing
out into the cold,
pale faces faintly

illuminated by a
quaint harvest moon
(untimely at best)

wind biting ankles,
pushing shadows down
the meandering path

memory of those
chilling last hours
why are you stopping?

heavy hearts, hands
furious in futile attempts
to infuse warmth into limbs

my dear mother, please
do not tether him to
this decaying body;
he has long since

flown away.

©MW
"attack and break your aching body; yet grains of sand and truth"
Melody W 

tribulations unceasingly rain down on you in a loveless effort to
attack and break your aching body; yet grains of sand and truth
begin to take roots in the depths of your gentle soul,
in turn becoming tiny pearls, glorious in their minuscule splendor

©MW
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