Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2066797-Silence
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2066797
A Dead Man's Tell.
I feel my heart pound,
Yet I do not truly live.
Deep in the ground,
I lay cold, singing, no more.

Ah, but the songs I sang during my life!
Songs of love,
Songs of hate,
I sang a song or two every hour of every day.
I sang until the very day,
That I would be laying in my grave.

I arose from my slumber on that silent morn,
Feeling melancholy and stiff as board.
This odd for me, I mightend add,
In my life I was joyously mad.

This, being the last day of breath I had to breathe it,
Was also the darkest, and the bleakest.
I sang no songs my final day,
Now I rest.
Now I sleep.

The sadness of death is forever,
The worst part,
The Silence.
Such a bore.
© Copyright 2015 Furlong (furlongstrong at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2066797-Silence