To the Grave

Photo by Jill Dimond on Unsplash

If telling you will make it true, then I will hold my tongue.
My story never will be writ, my ballad never sung.

If looking up into your face my eyes would tell the tale;
Forevermore my lids be shut, my mask must never fail.

If through my deeds the truth will out then, needs must, I’ll be still.
The revelation must be stopped, so stifle it I will.

If, to the head against my breast, my fool heart would betray;
Alone, unloved, without a friend, I’ll live out all my days.

And when my solitude is done, my penance at it’s end,
I’ll open wide embracing arms and greet death as a friend.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s