The Quiet of Death…

Taken at dawn, a life, in the darkened

House children cried a candle flared.

The souls left behind gather.

A golden moon will soon leave its glow

Upon the grave, while the nearby river

Continues to flow, life goes on.

The black band worn with sorrow, tears

Burn hot, the open ground beneath the

Poplar is dark. An innocent life taken

Away, soon the flowers will be dust and

The talk of death will be no more.




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