Blood Stained Memories

Death comes in such surprise,
In such anguish of pain.
It never releases the heart.
Blood left only to stain.
It’s striking how it occurs,
Darkening the light of the eyes.
The thief of a breath,
Yet the giver to agonize.
One could not release them self
From the chains of a graveyard bed.
For this is the calling of a sleep
To keep them only instead.
Words upon the tombstone
Aren’t really of any use.
They same as with the eulogy,
They’re just a poor excuse.
Caskets are a deadman’s ride,
Yet a coming that will take
All the young and naive hearts
And teach them how to ache.

1-24-1992 Friday
Written by Gail Brookshire

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