when nothing of your mortal frame is left
what will then remain?
an echo, a haunting melody, to summon forth the rain
the music, words, and notes,
are ink upon a page
you ascend to the afterlife while the world is your stage
the notes travel far, far beyond the morn,
as a shadow begins to play
a simple song within the storm
COMMENTS
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CelticDarkAngel
14:05 Dec 09 2017
that was a beautiful poem
decondemon
15:15 Dec 09 2017
thank you :)