Watching you die old
friend is the hardest bit
you’re suffering – it is hidden
in your eyes though you
will not admit the
light grows dim
Darker tendrils slowly
choke your power to live
sadness grips me like
a prophet’s eyes so
bloodied in relentless
vision
Everything we ever did
together rings with
free and careless energy
yet abject you lie abed
was it surely meant
to be this way
You’ll leave old friend
I’ll try to take it light as
you command; you don’t
say yea or nay that it’s
right to me – only that
it IS your way
© 3 September 2009, I. D. Carswell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem