And as I gaze upon his face
Eyes full of life and death
This old god spoke in his embrace
A wish to be remembered.
His hands rested covered in moss
Soft to their touch and caress
Hard in the faded images of loss
As the leaves around him fall.
The wind sang in his voice
So sorrowful and wise
Knowing what came was a choice
To leave this world for the next.
He spoke of eons past by
And of the future to come
Above us turned a dark sky
Already mourning what was to be.
This old god spoke softly
And the trees shook with cries
He whispered "remember me"
And the world around us died.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Passing Fancy
PuisiPoems written by me as my life goes on. Feel free to request a poem about something if you want :)
