Requiem Poem by Brett White

From my spirit and my heart words are lent,
As "Requiem" again plays to my heart's content.
How many words have I poured from my soul?
And let me ask you: what is your life's goal?
For like the seasons, we all change and grow,
So always remember we reap what we sow.
Sometimes it's hard to view the past with the present,
And to do so is to leave myself spent,
Devoid of hope in love and life's richness,
Plunging deeper and deeper into darkness.
It seems as though darkness alone brings peace,
Coupled with flowing tears, asking God, Please
Release me from the bondage of my past,
And grant me serenity that will last.
Just how many tears for her have I cried?
Probably as many lies to myself I have lied.
Yet time moves on with or without her here,
So I see no reason in shedding tear after tear.
But it's just that these dreams simply will not die,
So upon my knees I gaze with tears to the sky.
I do not know how to erase these memories,
Even the ones which bring me unto my knees.
I enjoy a life of sadness as best as I can,
Even when after falling it is hard to stand.
I feel like without God's Grace I would have died,
From the pain inside when I cried and cried.
I know of no other force that sustained me,
And the Lord knows I cry to Him daily.
I have chosen today to do more good,
Because in my life I've not lived as I should.
Penance for my sins is an ongoing thing,
With my conscience giving me the sharpest sting.
For I always knew what's right yet chose wrong,
And this makes it hard with myself to get along.
But sometimes in nature I feel forgiven,
When towards God and away from evil I'm driven.
Some people are lured into temptation,
As readily as they breathe oxygen,
So just forgive yourself and try to do better,
Obeying all of God's Law to the letter.
For fear of God drives me from morbid thoughts,
Of suicide which leaves my stomach in knots.
Because God Almighty knows I embrace death,
And in it the release of my final breath.
To breathe no more seems to me a paradise,
But I could not bear the weight of my Mother's eyes,
Overflowing with tears of losing her son,
And in her twilight years eclipsing her sun.
So I ask the Lord for the power to go on,
While enjoying Mozart's prophetic swansong.