Treasure Island

Vincent Barrowcliffe


A Death Without Mourns


Thy son hast not comforted,
He lived a life alone,
Now, leaves, as his breath,
To none, shalt it be known,
None shalt be there to mourn.
Thy son, as shalt be gone,
For him shalt be no song of dawn,
None, hath he, to adorn,
None shalt be there to mourn.
As approaches his night,
He shalt be gone, with Thy Light,
That shalt bring Thee, to sight,
To calm his plight,
To none, which shalt be known,
None, shalt be there to mourn.
But, Thy son shalt not regret,
For what he would now beget,
As into death, he seeps,
There shalt be none who weeps,
His life has passed alone,
And he, comforted, hath not,
None shalt mourn,
For it, with sorrow, he is fraught,
There are none left, for him,
As his life now grows dim,
And, his life, was lone,
That with lament, shone,
That shalt not be known,
For it shalt only be, but a death, without mourns.

Submitted: Saturday, February 16, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, May 21, 2013

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