Sinew and bone to rough-hewn stone. A wooden cross or corpse still lost. In fields of gold and rivers, red, the sparkling water of forgotten dead. This is how the world has been, this is how the world will be. Born and die and born anon some with stories, but most just gone. #poem #poetry #grave #life #death #circleoflife #legacy
Tag: funeral
All Paths, to this
We never want to lose,
Yet we never go without it.
Losing ones we love, to death,
The inescapable sunset.