May 17, 2017

Submitted by Ann Neilson

I feel thine absence, I mourn thy loss,
My dearest friend whom I n’er have met.
Dewy is the parting cobweb, flossed,
une mélancolie veil upon thy dampened cheek,
Long since reposing, entangled by earth’s decay,
n’er longer exposed to thy darkened dismay.

The tolling bells doth not ring for thee,
nor treads the mourner to thy grave;
Thy home, once glowing with warmth and ease,
Hath collapsed unto its own mossy enclave.
But come-may this heart hold thy eternal place of rest
and enfold thee, thus, forever to mine breast.

Photo credit: Gustav Dore – Circle of Angels


Published by

Brian Geiger | Editor of Vita Brevis

Brian is a freelance writer and the editor of Vita Brevis.

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