Your place lies bare where once I nursed
Your wracked old frame no more to tread
Life's path with me now death has cursed
Our love long blest and snapped the thread
With which we bound our dreams and fears.
I lay my wreath and hope to face
The stab of the lance, bitter sweet tears
To mist my eyes were not God's grace
Balm to soothe sores in this black hour
When I hear rasps of your breath expire
To loose your soul for Heaven's High Power
Which beams its light our hearts to inspire.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 4:36pm on Dec 26, 2024 via server WEBX1.