Grief stills me
In dying sleep,
For I have drunk too many tears
To see where my years
Shall carry me.
My fingers lift
To feel the warmth of a fading sun,
To bleed caught sorrows
Over the evening’s forsaken tomorrows.

Some stilled picture,
Some glimmering reflection
Of her, in the sky
Where darkness can mimic my pledge,
My vow
As now
My lips are always buried
In the soil, where she hurried
Far from my arms.

Some frame,
Some portrait
Where love does not follow
Me, in heaviest sorrow.

One face,
One certain grace
That had bested me
In grandest peace.

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