Never could pretend to try and be silent, and imagine death Whether the end is as fiery violent, as a dragons breath. Or if our souls get lifted high to see islands on Aladdins carpet. Ride the River Styx as residue until we see holy manors thats lit. Then gain ligaments and sinew and become new souls elaborate You begin the next chapter flying on atop angel wings I have a heavy heart about your death to mourn these painful things Feeling confused on how to react cuz anger’s not enough and wrath’s a sin Trying to take on task of recovery so I decided to pass this pen Across this page, in order to pour out this cup of sorrow about my true feelings. And in writing this poem, I managed to attain some new healing.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Dec 2013 05:07:59 +0000
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