Early Works - Epitaph For A Friend Poem by David Harris

Gathering of blackness
cower the lost to the final reunion.
The gates enfold of sadness
for a lost friend.
Hear the mighty trumpets blow
its last cord of silence
before the clouded darkness
surround the black.

Through the years that were short
compared with the final infinity
there were joys
beyond the reaches known
and sadness to whom know have gone.
Home was just a bed
where freedom died,
though our course wasn’t straight,
neither was it crooked,
but friends we stayed
through thick and thin.

Now before another sunrise
another soul wings its way high
to the paradise of heaven
where tranquillity rules all
and memories are lost.
People though just mortal
cry for the departed,
but do the departed want us to cry.
Boundaries are crossed without a tear everyday
so why not in our hour of grief.

So into the final road you’ve entered,
into the most final thing
and here to you
an epitaph to a friend.


Date unknown.