Before the grave.

Someday amidst the light of mourning We may come to sad days end, or maybe the night will court us and then become our friend, who knows if joyous sun's may set, or rain brings storms of heavy doubt, reminding those who've come to loss, what love was all about Who knows if darkened skies may hold the lasting breaths for time may cease And call upon the Angel's , and bid them home in fleece, For only places touched By love with mortal eyes and hands unfold, but bring to mind such immortal words where spoken last and bold Such sadness in the overflow of tears on beds of death may come And in the light exchange what's left before the words are done Goodbyes seem so painful, in the midst of all things beautified and touched by grace, and evening comes with gentle kisses upon a tired face, yet In the middle of a desert not a flower escapes the hot brased air, and in the night oh many stars they shine so way up there And in my garden beds that group Hold soil to my heart and soul But come not for endings ever dark But oh so beautiful , For all the roses would then be flourished, by the bone and blood confined to land, and so the call of morning light makes me succumb As sand, no time would come for further breath, and death would then be the light one craves, in all but all we are but children, whom live before the grave.

 Inspiration charles Baudelaire.