It's on thy tip of my tongue,
When we composed to eachother,
I costed of breathing with you,
As I owned you.
Turning thy pages of journal,
Included saga of Grace,
And beaming with honour,
Of having you by side,
You inflected kin,
Then lost of thy light of life,
I bear in mind your generosity,
From my niche of soul.
© Rappy's Diary