An Elegy For My Loss From The Origin Root
For the clay, a cold and swoony theme,
It owns a remember'd wreath's sadly way,
As if in rolling tears they passing them.
O' rest in, the void and empty's languid may.
You being's so closer god, an echo yet sad,
For mortal days, or as in my wretch's soul?
Favor's in deepest pain, the mourning bird,
Of doom's and ceased ways of illness hurl-
Reach her night's airy height, a village, its truth lost!
Where the shadow of the scene, in last eyes
While white the clouds wept for sullen all white
You are in dew, the sharp, when crystal loss,
Melt the name in rapid fire, while are wilt.
come and perish, life to death in its trot,
kind of precious pearly halo it works taint.
Roll to mine sorrow, you enatic root'
The unseen fly that flies in radar height;
To meet her in pillowy roost, is now dream that waste!
Once the queen of winning moments; you live
As a bright bird who sung that solemn song
Of mirth and beloved with natured love
For those with the imbued soul's they pang
From morn and night to seek their dearest love,
And lov'd you oft when they need richly most
with your devoted face that pure and active.
From now glory might commute but that kist
Which time that self made with sadness flow; the tear sea..
No delight fair; since it eludes abroad
As even through a secret form it fled away
With painful descent, and inevitable dread,
creeping among us to mourn for the betray
That death made to ensure its darkling deed
By which your fate has veiled its curtains
When eye of your day once closed, you part'd
Whilst away from our rapture even with burns.
Yet stains the world your kindred love, sure never die...
Comments about this poem (An Elegy For My Loss From The Origin Root by Nithin purple )
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