Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Death passes daily, touching whom it may
but today I felt its shadow, coldly
falling on one too young to pass away.
What injustice, then, that the old boldly
dare to live on, breathing life's morning air,
so heedless of the lonely cares of youth,
hoarding ill gotten treasure, unaware
of your struggle with as yet unknown truth.
You, bravely, did not cast off innocence
but carried its bright banner as a sign,
to those ground down by life's intransigence,
that beauty casts out all that is malign.
Too late to tell you of your worth or say
in comfort that your life was not in vain,
Untimely, your escape into death, Lethe
but let these poor words signify my pain.