lxviii. THE FINAL BOW WE NEVER EXPECTED.
isn't it odd
that we are only left with words you once spoke
we'll never hear anything new
from a voice that soothed many
the lyrics that bled from your fingertips
the inspiration you lead for lost souls
it'll all stay the same
a flatline that can't move even if we forced it to
for you no longer exist
as you had once did
and as heartbreaking as it is
there is comfort in knowing
you are somewhere safe
no matter what religion we look upon
or if we are to believe in any
we know you were too soft spoken
wonderfully beautiful
from within and out
to be thrown into a place
of misery
when you spent too long
living it
on my behalf
i forgot to thank you for the time we spent
for your voice melted my silver heart into gold
a piece of art destroyed too soon
sing in paradise, my love i'll listen to you in the quietness
of the night,
hear you out
for the beauty of what you held will live on through the stars that hold you tight.
goodbye until we meet again.
YOU ARE READING
on this day.
Poezjaxvii, april. (ii). these words speak louder than i ever will. © playlist poetry h.r. : #55
