Wren Rushing Poet Monorhyme

A Crowd of Silent Souls

Standing among a crowd of silent souls, 
treading over remains of lives once whole. 
Peering at chiseled dates, stories untold, 
vases with beautiful flowers to hold. 

What had once felt warm now seems deathly cold,
all that was young has been deemed now the old.
Death has crossed Life's invisible threshold 
and its breath this thief has brazenly stole. 

Promises of latter years, would be gold,
now appear to be a bit oversold.
Leaving the once carefree and ever so bold,
to be froze in Decay's total control.

A thought has rooted and taken a hold,
on every man time will take a great toll. 




11/19/18

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Jo Chamberlain February 28, 2021 at 1:26 PM I really enjoyed your poem, very well penned. I particularly liked the line ' to be froze in decay's total control. :-)

P.S. Awtry November 19, 2018 at 8:10 AM A lovely lament for us all...

Caren Krutsinger November 18, 2018 at 5:55 PM Oh, yes, I do believe I know where you are. I have informed my family no tombstone, no marker. My thousands of painting and poems should be enough for many generations, and this is how I want to be remembered. Thank you for the reminder.

Sand Blown November 18, 2018 at 4:10 PM nice one...sounds like someone might have been reading e. a. poe Wren Rushing November 18, 2018 at 6:16 PM Thanks Sand.

Tom Cunningham November 18, 2018 at 3:05 PM Frigtening thought Wren but one day we'll be one of the silent souls. Thought provoking verse. Tom. Wren Rushing November 18, 2018 at 4:19 PM Thank you Tom.