deepundergroundpoetry.com
Headstone
Cry not for me
for I am gone
I have resigned my soul
gave up my mortal coil
stardusts and golden hues
of a kingdom promised
a paradise chosen
a place of rest
Here I rest among the roses
the fragrance of the past
and memories ever so precious
Oh death sweet aggression rests
for I am gone
I have resigned my soul
gave up my mortal coil
stardusts and golden hues
of a kingdom promised
a paradise chosen
a place of rest
Here I rest among the roses
the fragrance of the past
and memories ever so precious
Oh death sweet aggression rests
Published 4th Sep 2015
| Edited 3rd May 2024
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 0
comments 8
reads 750
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.
4th Sep 2015 11:08am
"YES... I come for all! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!!!" lol... Oops sorry false alarm, I thought was Wendy from 'round Da way! lol... Seriously, a very good, though chillin thought
about something we all will confront
like or not n ready or not. Nicely expressed sweetheart :)
about something we all will confront
like or not n ready or not. Nicely expressed sweetheart :)
4th Sep 2015 4:18pm
Poetikmind...:)...true. It comes for all. Ready or not it comes...inspired by news shared to me several hours ago. Thanks for being here.
Anonymous
4th Sep 2015 8:24pm
But depending on your life or situation in life, death can be with a blessing or a curse. It can come swiftly or slowly. Excellent personification Grace!
5th Sep 2015 3:22am
Thank you Donovan...I feel my mortality sometimes when I hear of death among circles of friends.:)
4th Sep 2015 8:28pm
Really enjoyed this Grace. I like the way you transform Death into a faithful visitor rather than the Grim Reaper. Fine work!
5th Sep 2015 3:23am
6th Sep 2015 2:59am
A question that can only be answered in the after-life. I wrote a poem called "Death Begins at Conception" because I think death just happens when our cells can no longer reproduce enough to keep us alive. Not as mysterious or foreboding, as it just happens when it happens, but life feels that way to me now. JJ
6th Sep 2015 4:23am
Oyes, Poetryman...we work our body and one day it gets too tired and just refuse to start. But at time the dramatic works...scytheman...styx...afterlife.:) no one knows exactly.:) you are so right. Thanks for being here.
