The final mortal breath, his love and kiss,
So familiar in an unknown word,
He waits in shadows at the great abyss,
The moment when all can be clearly heard,
He brings certainty to end all of this.
Here or there, no matter where we may roam,
He is the endless veil, the last good night,
He is the laughter as earthy as loam,
His the power that claims the final rite,
Gwynn Ap Nudd escorts our souls safely home.
Form: Sicilian Quintains
Copyright © Jemmy Farmer | Year Posted 2012
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment