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Funeral for a friend

I can smell it
The morning dew among the midnight lilacs
The presence of death on the dawn of a Sunday
Pervading everywhere

I can hear it
The church bells toll on this dim day
The wind ceases to blow
And the roosters are silent
Hushing everything

I can see it
The blinding tears within the crowds
The clouds that embrace
And the roses that swoon
Bleed red upon the tomb




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Sarbear This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 2, 2010 at 8:30 am:
this is dark, yes, but it is so beautiful. you have honesty in your writing and i like that. check out some of my work too :)
 
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