The Last Prayer

If this poem makes any sense to you, then, well, fantastic! (I tried to make it rhyme..really, don't ask)

If this poem makes any sense to you, then, well, fantastic! (I tried to make it rhyme..really, don't ask)

The eve of the last,never ever starts,

from A to Z.

They say it goes past, the times, the day, the mast

of tears we did shed.

It didn't tumble, the words, 

the faces and the mess,

the smiles, the laughs, the broken hearts

they never come back again.

I do not feel the tragedy, of things I could have done

Yet, the times never last, from back and forth across,

but do I want them again?

Breathe, but you feel more dead than the rest,

Wake, but it seems like a dream lies ahead.

Grow, but you feel that time never passes so,

Live, but it all goes back to square one.

All the things I've seen don't come rolling down the hills of past

All the words I've said seem to be so dumb and non-existent, 

I've only heard of what they say, 

that it hurts, the pain and the tears,

Never once have I been witness,

although I have seen the game of losing.

Tears do not flow, nor are they held back.

Memories are fresh, yet they seem so incompetent and lifeless.

When the time comes,

One last time to see the big gates,

One last time to hear the great bells,

One last time to sing the last prayer,

again.

The End

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