perhaps it's too late / with the pounding in my chest / delay the serenade / used to put him to rest / i still remember our days of azure blue / with cotton candy clouds / but it doesn't matter / because the coffin lid has slammed shut / voices drifting in the air / but all that i can hear is his voice belonging to a song / and all i can see are eyes too bright / too watery / too far-gone / is death always like this? / filling the air with invisible smoke / seeping into pores / and scrambling thoughts incoherent / is death always this cruel / with no mortality / has it done its job too long / too care for the warm-blooded? / for the ones with tears streaming down skin like streams / for the ones with a heavy heart bursting at the seams
- DEATH DRESSES IN BLACK [ALTERNATIVELY NAMED: DEATHBED REMINISCING - 7.29.16]
YOU ARE READING
OF THE LIKE
PoetryLIKE THEM; the cunning, the strong, the rational, the sensual, the rash. POE19 [151016]
