Rest In Peace
Hold onto what has gone.
For what has gone is still in your grip.
The storm has cleared yet you still can't see.
If only you could see, the storm has only gone temporarily.
Dressed in black, standing by an old oak.
Staning in the rain watching as the graves soak.
What you see is not real, nor is it a dream.
Eyes lighten with a fatal gleam
Copyright © Brianna Wahlquist | Year Posted 2015
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