You journeyed it for short a while,
Before many miles away take flights thy smiles,
Then the hearse bears us the fears,
Not minding that it will bring us tears,
When we know you are no longer near.
His hands came out cold,
And the winter withered out our hold,
Thence, the stars twinkled the sky,
Our tears trickled down to glide the ski.
Death reigned whilst our eyes rained,
But out emotions couldn't be feigned,
Even though, our cries coulf form pools of sprinkles
They are still not enough to smoothen our wrinkles.
You strode away to take no more our broths,
Your soul refuses to win this as you did in many you fought?
But if not too far away you are, just stop what this has brought,
If possible come as a bubble in the froth.
How much desired we thy cheek for a kiss?
But death denied that with his cold fists,
Find then there thou a place full of bliss,
So as to rest therein in perfect peace.
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