My Last Whisper Poem by Aislinn Armstrong

Gone but not forgotten

What looks like glitter in my eyes,
Is actually my mournful cries,
Underneath the grass and clover,
All my days are over,

Full of Earth’s old timid grace,
The tears stream down my sorrowful face,
With wings of broken faith,
Soon leads into..interfaith,

My calling is now but from a hound,
Silently I must go, without a sound,
For somebody, I’ve hidden my hope, desire and fear,
Which every second brings a tear,

Weary and worn is my sad soul now,
Now I begin to retire with my graceful bow,
Let not you forget our greatest passion,
Which was once filled with your graceful compassion,

Once belonging with our dignity,
Now flows in my glittering sea,
Now with my whispering breath,
Comes the eerie cry belonging to death.