This separation called death
The boundary so like sleep
That leaves us all bereft
for loss of those who leave
Her eyes have closed up the windows
the house, a temple to her ghost
the vivid waking response, what was animate
now in still placid repose.
No more but mere shell this mortal coil shrugged loose
a flower becomes the sunshine as it loses it's petals
and in a moment is gone, as swiftly as the last twinkling of the day
so night may rise, old and dark, and stars may shine the way
like lanterns, spirits that have moved on.
and whisper in the steady quiet hours not to fear,
'come what may.'
Death is the beginning of sleep
An end to fear, sorrow, loss, suffering and pain.
This separation called death
The boundary so like sleep
That leaves us all bereft
for loss of those who leave
Her eyes have closed up the windows
the house, a temple to her ghost
the vivid waking response, what was animate
now in still placid repose.
No more but mere shell this mortal coil shrugged loose
a flower becomes the sunshine as it loses it's petals
and in a moment is gone, as swiftly as the last twinkling of the day
so night may rise, old and dark, and stars may shine the way
like lanterns, spirits that have moved on.
and whisper in the steady quiet hours not to fear,
'come what may.'
Death is the beginning of sleep
An end to fear, sorrow, loss, suffering and pain.
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