The Death Of A Dear Friend Poem by sir Frederico Von Dubois II

When the bell tolls in the church steeple for a loved one.
Sadness like a stinging autumn breath, will enter our lungs that are not ready.
The crisp, cold air, and the winds of change is in the air.
With blurring vision,
our eyes see only muted tones of mottled browns leaves that fall to the ground, still, lifeless, only the wind moves them around
The tear is forming in my heart,
silently it is falling like the leaves detaching themselves from the very tree of life that held their brilliant colors against the pale blue sky.
How very queer that autumn starts with a brilliant show of colors,
to end with a mixture of monet tones on the floor of the landscape, as if they are sleeping.
Turning to peaty soil, seeping back to renew mother earth, from wence they came.
Hark. my heart cries out. not a single note is heard.
a river of memories flood my chambers of the heart a midst the pain and anguish that is driven a daggar in my tender heart.
Do not lose heart. Do not be consumed of death. Life is not death.
Look up when you have been blinded by life's tribulations. Harken your spirit to the sounds of water. Open your skinned heart to him that breathes us life and shows us death. Glory to him that gave us his son to die a hideous, torturous, death of suffering so we may find his grace and be freed of our mortal life of sin. Glory be to the father, the son, and the holy spirit, A m e n.

anonymous