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lay my bones to rest
Overwhelming emptiness
Convulsive throes deny my breath
Faintest utterance to fading thought
In the gasp of death
Lost along the road
Weary traveller, this day was foretold
Through the grey haze
The weight of years
Reflection fades
We stumble into the darkness
The prodigal son returns
But brings only death
His nature, a lamentation
And knows only loss
Through vacant light
Torches burn in the night
Lain amongst the elders
A tomb of stone, where once stood your home
Our house is dead
We shall build it again
But our home is gone
And the world burns on
I watched thee
When fever glazed thine eyes
When overworn with watching
Never to rise
From thence
If thou
And early grave
Hadst found.

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