A poem of loss (Image credit courtesy of CC by © Commonwealth of Australia 2018)
|The Sun Won't Set|
The sun won't set
these tattered shards
of heart left scattered
in the yard;
loathsome, dry, deserted, drifting soul.
Three words I bid thee
ne'er to speak
proclaimed by Christians'
heir of peace
from thy full lips did wane salvation sweet.
Where Love once reigned
and impassioned tempers pressed,
life's mighty zeal
constrained within its breast;
abdicated lays that throne of purposed strength.
bade cease his cry
toward battles worthy of his might;
banners struck and tossed to wind
now beacon only blight of winters without end.
"It is finished!"
'tis what was said
No greater words could thou've composed to strike love dead