A story that isn't long enough,
A pen that soon runs dry -
These are the immaterial things
That make me want to cry.
Sad stories have sad endings;
Not all tales end in glee.
Such was the unpredicted end
Of one fine friend, you see.
A "mystery to every other"
Is a truth too late we find
Describes each last human being
In character and mind.
In each life one can unearth
Bleeding hearts and joyous laughter,
But these things oft' go unheeded
'Til one life passes 'to the after.
What wisdom will this soul have imparted?
What stories will it have told
When at last 'tis proved to be
Pure, fire-refined gold?
No comments:
Post a Comment