Mourn Not, Death Can Be a Gift Too

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. Robert J. Lindley and Laura Loo, 1-11-2016 Note Thank you my friend for such lovely verses!