Poetry is a way of life, a flower
Which developes, grows and slips to death.
Oh god, how much I wish this day
To not remember all I've lost, I wish
To forget, to sleep, to rest once more
Lay down, let it slip Concussion
Would be a blessing, more dead than alive
I've lost the three people, how I loved
And one more, but just six months.
Its not long, half a year to the day
And to me your death was just the start,
Hey, honey, do you look at us now?
See the way my princess cries and weep
For her darkened face reflecting through a pane
Of glass, the raindrop rivers tears down her cheeks.
This is her life now, this bitter existance
Awaiting your return with bated breath, but
Knowing its hopeless, you'll never return
From the void, you're in a better place But she
Will always wait, looking through
Her pane of glass, the sun comes out
A rainbow forms and her face lights up,
Becomes beautiful, fills with the light, is happy.
Thank you honey, for all you've done, the rainbow
Your last present for her, you know she loves them
It reflects through the pane of glass and onto
The sleeping figure, illuminates her face
She smiles in her sleep and turns over
And thanks to you, your little rainbow
She is happy, smiles through her pane of glass
Thank you.
originally on deviantart.com
http://samjo27.deviantart.com/art/Rainbow-coloured-pane-of-Glass-106152427
