Last Breath

Calls queue from the north
Waves queue from the south
The eyes looks blurry
The body seems weary

The feverish mouth wills it's last
The choir of angels sings in a cast
Tears like rain wets the bereaved
From earthly trouble ,the dead is relieved

Finally he divorces with sinful earth
On the wings of death, he surrenders his breath
Was dust , unto it returns
A ritual hated never adjourned

Tears shall form a sea of sorrow
Gone shall smell no earthly horror
Now in black each awaits his hour
To be ready man must scour


Copyright 06/12/2021
© Tatah Allen Laika