Remembered Dead
M
Mark Heathcote
0
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To be amongst these remembered dead
That is enough honour for me, foe or friend.
Eyes of crystal, souls of glass,
When they've long gone; alas laid to rest.
What is there left to still, embrace that lasts?
A few splintered baubles of a forgotten past.
That draws fresh blood when newly caressed
That is, the best tribute, I can a-test.
If newly formed blood should one-drop-bleed
Then all my suffering shall have, succeed
And, the will of my heart intercede
With another heart not yet even a hayseed.
To be amongst these remembered dead
And here now look faintly ahead.
Here lies a dead poet, may he remain asleep
Whose words a spider's web, captures you all discreet.
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