To the Dead and the Dieing
The love of life, to the death of love,
The tears that fall from the lonely dove,
Gliding, falling, reflecting in bitter eyes,
Quietly thus the widower cries,
Then from the grave, letters come,
Whispering deeds both passed and done,
Let it be heard, let it be known,
The mourner shall never be so alone.
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
To the Dead and the Dieing, which
was posted on Jun 27, 2010 by
FireReayn.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"Yes it makes no sense...but i'm posting it anyway."
This poem is filed under:
Simple Rhyme
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