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5/13/2013 8:11:41 PM

Patrick Whitaker
Posts: 2

Her pain at ease, her voice a breeze,

She’s gone but never far from you.

The shallow gravitation, she pulls you toward her rest.

Her hand outstretched, grasping to the sky,

Knelt by the grave, you release the pain bottled within,

The grief, the depression, the anger you feel,

One and all pour forth over the soul that is lost.

Her grasping hand with a hold on you,

Pulls you down within.

The grave occupied with the love you hold,

Keeps you always near to her.

From the grasping hand, release,

Escape her shallow grave.

With her name in your heart,

Turn around and strive --through life.

For she’s not in the grave,

She watches above.

And all that you do,

With love,

she watches.

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