Mourning

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As I sit here,
mourning, myself,
I see my love,
alone.

Without a farewell,
he weeps,
begging and wishing,
for my return.

He prepares my rest,
laying my body,
in shinned oak,
to be given back to,
the forest.

He then stands,
waiting above,
for the dirt,
to wash over me.

I slowly see,
the world start to fade,
as I am left here,
in complete darkness,
abandoned.

Yet, as the world begins to,
consume me,
my eyes will remain,
open.

~

D.S. Galileo

MourningOn viuen les histories. Descobreix ara