PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

If thoughts could push me a thousand miles,

I'd be six feet under by now,

Beneath the trees and daffodils,

Making my mark in the ground,

Turned to dust, this worthless vessel,

Which many have come to hate,

And the prayers of those above,

Praying all too late,

I can feel life all around me,

Slowly slipping away,

Through time's aged fingers,

At the very threads he plays,

I don't fear the carriage,

That will take me to my place,

I'll walk to it with open arms,

That smile on my face,

And when the cart's in motion,

I'll wave each one goodbye,

I can see them mourning,

I could never understand why,

And above, a tainted tombstone,

Marked with blood and a solemn verse,

'Hear the darkness of the devils dream,

The light of an angels curse'.