The passing of friend +Steven Malone 's father inspired me to write this poem. Please offer Steve your condolences. http://www.stevenspen.com/blog-1/ Ceased When life has run its weary course, we pray we've lived without remorse. When dying sun sets upon a life, we hope it ends with no strife. When mortal frame frames no more, we cling to memories from our store. When soul flies free from human form, we hope there's peace from this storm. When the day has turned to night, we search the tunnel for the light. When spirit soars from solid earth, we return to God before the birth. When thought will cease to fill the mind, we wonder will we wander blind. We turn to see the past behind, and the wending road unwind. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ By Sandro Kharazashvili (Flickr: Light at the end of the tunnel) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
"Always be a poet, even in prose." ~ Charles Baudelaire