Pray For Paris, Gone But Not Forgotten.

If with each word I pen, I would bring back life,
And if a twinkle would resonate, a “no-longer” soul
Then,the power bestowed upon me would raise them,
Back with each drop of my ink,
To create a new life within the vessels of their breath.

If every word from my dictionary will mean ‘life’
If i had the power of the gods to rise above all these height
However too hard to achieve, above my might.
So my prayer, as these 128 candles I light.

And if life was a flower,
As I wish on this tower,
Waiting on His hour
As the 128 flowers blossom again
Together in this rose garden.

Time was curved to heal
Even the tiniest seal crowns would heal
And so to accept the angels have gone.
I know they’re yet to R.I.P

And in that deepest sleep I pray,
That your dreams may come to pass
In their life after death
Until yet we meet again.

But then lets not sob over it,
We have this feeling we share
With friends and relatives of the deceased
And understand it was meant to be.

Flames to ashes,
Lovers to friends,
Life to demise,
Why do all good things
Come to an end?

Young promising souls,reduced to bodies lifeless
Stained with bitterness
So much to say yet speechless
One, two, three, 128 candles I light
As a sign of goodbye to our friends
Reduced upon deaths’ selfish quest.
That put them to an eternal rest.

candle2

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::© #YGT_Various_Poets:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

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