A life lost will never gain
A holy fortune for its pain.
It carries an eerie echo, that
travels throughout the world like rain.
Wither in war or of the common cold,
it never matters: it's said boldly.
Evil yet stands at the Golden Gates
Shrouding what had been old.
To fill that so large a void
In faint hearts of those, it has avoided.
No worry, with mysterious for deaths,
When the living and non do collide.
Tears spring forth with bitterness,
Soft sighs breathed out regardless
Of what has lived through its life.
Life only lasts what we witness.
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Playing With Words
PoetryHello! Thank you for clicking on my collection, means a lot. Some of these poems are trying to imagine oneself in another person's shoes, others I have lovingly or painfully experienced to some extent... however all of them come a place of curiosity...
