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Death's Irony A young light shines bright on the horizon of life, Casting it's warm glow on so many. But, a storm lurks in the distance, Approaching, Creeping ever so slowly, it's rolling dark clouds Consuming, Devouring. The young light dims, Receding, over the years, into the dark void. Rains of anger and confusion wash away all traces of desire. The fury of the storm, It's raging torrents of despair, Finally engulf the young light. Darkness in it's totality. Stillness, Loss. Yet our hearts still feel the warmth. Ironic isn't it? For inside us, in our hearts, in our minds, that young light still shines. |
Additional Notes:
In Loving Memory of Myles. A young light, extinguished before it's time.
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