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Poem

"If I could have put you in my heart, 
if but I could have wrapped you in myself,
how glad I should have been.
And now the chart 
of memory unroils again to me.
The course of our journey here,
here where we part."         D.H. Lawrence


Sunset descended behind the willow trees
Into the sea, it seemed to sink and drown
Alone and grieving, hair tousling in the breeze
for one there is no comfort to be found 
as he sits staring at the gathering clouds
Lost in memories, overwhelmed with despair
Tears rain from weary reddened eyes
He's an abstract painting of desolation 
brush strokes in shades of somber blue
No sunlight appears to brighten today's skies
Only darkness that comes from sad au Revoirs

No words of bereavement can he speak to express
the doleful depth of wistful loneliness 
nor the solemn fathoms of elegiac emptiness
Melancholy looms half past midnight's darkest hour
There's a bitterness he swallows, acerbically sour
"This too shall come to pass," I remember to say ~
"In these days of forlorn sorrow 
the world must seem hauntingly grim
each time you close your eyes and think of him"

I feel his angst from such an emotional loss 
Against it his mind must be raging
Death has no compassion for the young of age
the kind ones who never hurt anyone
the bright ones whose light should never fade away
Weeping for Hazza, he lamentably grieves
watching storm tossed waves roll over angry seas
I hope there's truth in believing broken hearts mend
for the one who's been wounded and bleeding
as another sunset descends behind the willow trees

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