Feelings entwine with what I think, once more…

The soul a-tremble, like a candle’s gentle core.

Searching for truths known, but somehow left unsaid,

Poems take shape, where the pencil's lead has led.

A life well-lived? At times, it’s hard to grasp,

In cycles filled with faces, falling past.

To look on all the world, with senses open wide,

And see the fear and pain, and not let tears subside…

Death walks beside, a constant, silent shade,

Life’s faithful friend, a promise always made.

He gathers what’s his due, without a pause or rest,

Takes what he claims, and keeps it in his breast…

The living don't much care to dwell on death,

Thoughts skip that stone, avoid its chilling breath.

But oblivion’s seal is shattered, torn apart,

When a loved face lies pale outside the heart…

Not death we fear, so much as waiting for it near,

Nor own life ending; as beloved faces disappear,

As to say goodbye, the loss of friends and kin,

When darkness steals, the sorrow entering in…

What frightens is when the immortal soul departs,

Separates it from the body, tearing us apart.

But there’s no such thing as an end, for the body is not what matters

And endless melancholy is what scatters our souls in tatters

That understanding, this mournful sorrow breeds,

From which we cannot plant or harvest seeds,

If it’s too late for “I love you’s” and such,

And has always been worth as much.

To show our love, let actions speak aloud,

To tell the world we are not of the cloud but among the crowd,

But still has been the greatest,

To cherish one another and not let wither or hate.

But not a sound will make its escape,

A tear will make the pain to drape,

All these feelings we must know and face,

The grief is something our soul embraces.