Musings

Be gentle, sky, and let me rest - These bones are worn - they lack the zest Of flesh in life - they're marrowless! - Their arid surface, nakedness! - Betrayed in death; no sheen of red From coursing blood; and blue was shed Upon the fading out of eyes That cased the world and gave disguise To what my deepest thoughts had been - But now I'm done with all I've seen. Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011 The Rain of Death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death death