Death walks softly, so i might not hear … Thee come
Death speaks softly, so i might not hear…Thee come
I know that i’m mortal, one day i must die
But i beg of thee, take me when i’m up in the sky;
On the wings of steel, a thunderous roar
Then suddenly all ceased, i am no more;
Please make it fast, please make it swift
To the lonely traveller, a parting gift;
But should it pain, i shall not cry
No drop of moisture will cross my eye;
Should they wonder, or ask why…?
How one so young had a cause to die;
Or should they pray, for my soul to save
Then write this verse on my empty grave;
I was the hunter, my home the sky
Here i prowled, and here i die…;
I roamed, swinging and tumbling, full of lust
So now be it, Ashes to Ahes and Dust to Dust.
:k:
beautiful poem.....
thanx for sharing...:)