Song Of The Dead Poem by spiritual seeker

Song Of The Dead

Rating: 5.0

If you happen to pass my little mount,
Open your heart to its silent sound,
Hear my hollow forgotten song,
Of cruelty, injustice and all that wrong.

Hidden now in a thick overgrowth,
Scattered skeletons my only remain,
Echoing voices of distant pain,
Refused to be washed by summer rain.

Silent whispers in cold emptiness,
Fallen shadows in hollow promises,
Is the living dead walking above?
Humanity lost in cruelty and lust?

Ambrosia A 10 April 2014

Very touching write. Strong emotions wrapped up with helplessness. Many a times we simply left with no choice, just tolerate and tolerate the unjust and cruel! Unfortunately good hearted are suffering and crooks enjoying the most. Is God watching all this? why cant he put an end to all this? Cant he control his own creation? .....silent words of the dead hearts buried long back......hmmmm

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Patricia Grantham 09 April 2014

Death will not go unnoticed. The small or great deeds that we do will pass on from generation to generation. Just play your part well. Life will never be perfect. Very inspiring.

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Hans Vr 06 April 2014

Dear Friend, I felt I violated a bit the tone of the poem with my comment from yesterday. Somehow this a poem about pain, cruelty and injustice. How will the world have been served by our suffering, when we no longer are. We do not long for revenge and surely neither does our omnipotent Creator. But what is the meaning of our suffering the injustice in this world. Sometimes we long for a perfect world. But then, my Sufi friend, would a perfect world be good to live in? All our big motivation, our inspiration to do good, our nobleness, our helping goodwill, all turned worthless. Nowhere we could make a positive difference, since every thing would be as positive as could be. Whatever we would do, could only make it worse! Would not a perfect world be terribly boring? Somehow we were created in such a way that we enjoy helping others, that we get great satisfaction and peace of mind in making a positive difference. Grace is ours if we are on the helping side, grace is ours if we are being helped. The times I needed help, were definitely not the best times of my life, but these times (when we need help) are often the big lessons we learn and accepting the help of others with both hands makes our life fuller. Wow again a train of thoughts, but now more in relation to the deeper meaning of the poem, I think. Great poem.

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Hans Vr 05 April 2014

My dear brother, this is a very good and thought provoking poem. The song of our hearts will be heard long after our name and face have been forgotten. Our small good deeds, done in a big way, will trigger our song to last. Our small nice words of inspiration to our children and students will live on in generations to come. I believe quite deeply that all the small goodness will grow with time and the soft and whispering song within our hearts will become more beautiful and a little bit louder. A superb ten, my friend.

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Yash Shinde 04 April 2014

Hidden now in a thick overgrowth, Scattered skeletons my only remain, Echoing voices of distant pain, Refused to be washed by summer rain................beautiful, powerful verses/! ...loved this one................I invite you to read.....To bosom thee.I'll rise......and comment your views...

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