Mourning

Mourning             May 16, 2006 (Revised October 6, 2013)

In my days of vitality
Imbued with Will and Strength,
I achieved all I could
With Due Might and God's Will.
Yet, as an old man so young,
I am a cripple in my heart,
And a vagabond of sorts
Spinning verses in my mind.
As I lie down on the ground
Grasping for the eternal straws,
All I catch are birds san wings.
They are, sadly, forever me,
For I was in free fall;
A reminder of my Fate.

Now is the darkest of all Time's hours,
Always am I bereft of my peaceful slumbers.
I know when the sun shall rise,
And as I crack the curtains,
I shall be blinded not by Levity of Peace,
But the Pain of Truth's Fury.
Bizarre as it may sound,
'Tis my daily allowance:
If only you lived in my Hell,
You would pray for Eternal Sleep.