Song of the Dead

The measures of time drift solemnly into the autumn breeze
With the grace of a swan that dances in her satin waters.
I hold onto you  in the morning hours of darkness,
And breathe into the weeping clouds the song of the dead.
I march through the gates of hell to find you in the arms of death
Who has now become your lover.
I am depleted of my inner strength, and I am washed
Through this icy stream that fails to replenish my spirit
With tides of the phantom bliss.
But I will not innumerate you in this dance of the mighty.
For instead I shall allow you to feast on my flesh and bone
Until you tire of the new life you have become.

Author's Note

What do you think of the prose?

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

this reminded me of the movie "What dreams may come"
well penned.

[Budd Black]

I like it. I will not innumerate you in this dance of the mighty feels out of place though.

[Just Cat]

I quite like this.
Personally, I like the idea of a new life in death. Like life is a book and death is just another chapter.
Nice work :)

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Sometimes we must die inside to evolve our souls... another excellent poem.

[Randolf Ramos]

Living life with great compassion and love is amazing. Gratitude gives inner peace and serenity. On the other hand letting go of the one you love is hard but liberating the soul and spirit.

This is a great poem of great style! The imagery is perfect and ideas are expressed well.

Keep on writing!
I got to learn a lot from you!

[Adelia Alighieri]

Your work is a testimony to your talent. I've found your style very poetic, but you can improve the structure. But all in all, it's a brilliant write. =)

[Fabian G. Franklin]

New life in death? Perhaps, but I cannot contemplate that now...just too real. Very well written verse.