In all my days of living I had a fear of dying
But now that I am dead
The colour has run
And even memories of me
Fade out of your mind into grey.
- - - -
Just poetry alone is my supper on this side
Of grey and my appetite is for
Your words so sorrowful and full
And I devour them terribly
Because there is no tomorrow
- - -
Hollow is my reasoning sad is my tune
I should find harmony of another lost voice
Then the music would twist and turn
And the sharp of hearing would convert
What they think is the wind singing into a song
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Death is part of us! However, righteous living will help us to continue the journey. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.