Christopher Tye

Gold Star - 40,152 Points (Lincolnshire, England)

The Dying Exile - Poem by Christopher Tye

The dying exile

As the exiled man lays dying in a foreign land,
His thoughts turn to his beloved homeland,
As he draws his final few breaths,
He thinks about the village where he was born,
The little house where he spent his childhood,
The school he went to and all his long-lost friends from there,
The village's little sand stone church, with its steeple reaching out trying to touch heaven,
The rolling fields he played in when he was a child,
The glorious sunsets from those long lost halcyon days of his youth,
Wondering why he has to die in a foreign land,
Never able to be buried with his family,
He longs so much to be back in his homeland once more, but knowing he will never be able to make that journey,
So as fate has left him to spend the rest of eternity in this foreign land he yearns so much for home.

By Christopher Tye

Comments about The Dying Exile by Christopher Tye

  • Edward Kofi Louis (6/24/2016 8:16:00 AM)

    He thinks about the village where he was born! The very place that gave him his first identity. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 31, 2012

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 31, 2012

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