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The dial counted down the suns demise while bats danced waltzes above churches roof, and breeze played melody through wooden guise of pseudo organs; stolid yews aloof. Hungry lych-gate waited with open maw, as he crossed the threshold from life to death, and owl shouted sorrow for all it saw as morasses sigh seeped from stuttered breath. falling sod hammers holes into my heart, gargoyles seem to have forgotten to smile and crow is ready, your soul must depart, but dad I hope you may linger awhile. Beneath this façade, this pseudo repose lay maelstrom sorrow, its power beguiled, to shatter like falls this still waters pose and return my thoughts to a frightened child. When his arms were young, his hug ensured that pain was vanquished no matter its mask, but with body betrayed, power obscured, pain took away even this simplest task. I recall the room that held his last sigh with flowers that could only fade to grey, curtains that stirred as if waving goodbye in sterile silence of total dismay. It was as if tears were not enough for this hero, this man, my father.. .. dad, yet each that soaked into handkerchief cuff; tomorrows memory of being sad. You were the teacher who taught me to live with wisdom refracted from within eyes, that for all received we must surely give much more to appreciate our prize. so my father, where ever you may be I hope you hear this and can comprehend, on my life I offer this guarantee, your lesson guides me, from now to my end. ~Epitaph~ So now your husk beneath the ground interred and with chiselled grief upon my heart, that echoes with such sad sorrow unheard, I face a future where we’re apart. I curse the heavens high, scream down at hell that like twins, I cannot live as just one, though I walk through life, spirit doesn’t dwell. I am night; your death was my setting sun. ***Written in elegiac stanzas (10 syllables per line with ABAB rhyme)
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