Email Poem

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Poem

The wind howls, the leaves fall
does any one hear the mourns of the dead.
Neither to the left, neither to the right
all they can do is be there as they lie.
Waiting for their so called dark knight,
they cry and scream hoping for their justice to be brought to the light.
Trapped in a place with no time or space,
the souls of the dead lies in wait.
They wait for the day with no pain but gain
the day when truth will finally rain.
Able to move from the chains of the past,
they turn to the light where everything is all right.
As their justice brought forth, the dark knight smiles to the sky
only to be seen as a radiance of light.
As the wind howls and the leaves fall,
so does the souls of the dead as they finally lie in rest.

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