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Anguished Winds, Carried Feverish Cries

 
I rested upon a barren stone slab
When winter's breath had frozen me so stiff
In my dark abode, all was silently drab
Of meadow flowers not even a whiff.
Above the tingle of dawn's waking skies
Within its aura, a whispering death
Anguished winds, carried feverish cries
And sorrows begging no pitiful breath.

Beloved friends I had are dead and gone
All rotting black and deep-six underground
With no beating sun to bleach white their bones
And no ears to hear the wind's tempestuous sound.
Where lies my crypt to hold these sad remains
Or tombstone to mark my last resting place
Was my life more than its dark wicked stains
And truth of her loss my final disgrace.

Why holds this my strongest and pleading thought
Of those treasures of happiness I miss
I regret this trap, its teeth I am caught
Never again have her sweet lips to kiss.
Sun is setting, night sends its waiting song
Its hollow voice sings in fantastic tune
No more can I join racing human throng
Or dance in the summer's ballad of June.

Darkness falls, soul begs another abode
I wish only to leave this airy world
My aches are born from this desperate cold
Pray soon, in Heaven's arms I am hurled.
Treat not this my last message and its note
As if this fool had made no better mark
I tarried not, I got fine candles to tote
In case I end up in the scary dark.

Robert J. Lindley, 5-01-2019
Rhyme, ( Embracing The Cold-Hearted Ghost Of Darkest Death)

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