Mourn Not, Death Can Be a Gift-Collaboration
I die more wrapped in stone each day
storms batter my empty seas.
Shield broken, now red blood to pay
I dare to fight on my knees.
Death, holds its long, dark salute
where banners fallen burn.
In life, its the last savage brute
this kettle and stew I spurn.
What of skies so brightly flying by
summer's soft gentle replays.
I hold on, dare I not to ever cry
time is just painful delays.
Hope once told me it was my friend.
Now I see how, it brings closer my end.
Now that the cold arrested my warmth
My shield has repaired my tragic youth.
The kettle starts to swirl and swarm
Hiding this loneliness from the truth.
Above pale skies the storm retreats
banners wave flying above the sunset.
My stew of hatred has cried defeat
Although my dying stone, I won't forget.
Death, holds its long, vivid salute
I have learned down on my knee's.
For the pain of losing may pollute
but my misery has now broken free.
A friend once told me hold on to hope.
The end is distant...I let go of the rope.
~Laura Loo~ collaboration ~Robert Lindley~
Thank you very much Robert for
inviting me to write wonderful poetry with you!
Can't wait to do it again!
Date Poem Finalized : January 11, 2016
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2016
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