Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Listen, my people
Do not cry for the dead
We made their beds
And injected them in the womb of mother-earth
They live in memory so delicate
Resting in peace: from a life's struggle
They found old loved ones
They reunited with their kindred
No chaos, no pain; just love amongst gone brethren
I have seen them reunite with mother-earth
And made peace with their Almighty
We prayed, their judgment was ever gentle
A father forgave His prodigal child
There is hope, so you cease to cry
For you miss but stain them memories so delicate
From their beds, they flourish greener than our fields
In abundance, they shower the grounds with roses
Be gentle to the gone souls
For they live richer than ever before
Their new home be so peaceful
They dance sprightly to the tunes of the wind
And blossom at the light of the sun
They feed from the waters of the rain
And rest in peace and harmony of the moon and stars
So do not cry my people
For the gone souls have found a new home
Peaceful than here ever be
Richer than we can ever believe
Happy with their kindred
and feasting to glory from a life of struggle
They live again!!
YOU ARE READING
A Heart That Ever Cried
PoesíaA Heart That Ever Cried knows pain, knows love, knows loss, and knows how to reconcile his emotions. Above all, that heart knows how to inspire through such reality. This is only the beginning of something new and critically informative about the bl...
