Death Poem

Setting there his head I caress,
Asking God to do his best.
Weeping out of sorrow,
Knowing, he'd see no tomorrow.
Portraying to him a charming cascade,
discerning his deaths no longer delayed.
Through out the night I wait disturbed,
By morning he'd be dead, it's absurd!
Hours later I awoke,
Horrified, it's no joke.
He had died in his sleep,
It was time, I forever weep.
8-27-04
Bedside by Nicholas B. Lambert @FamilyFriendPoems

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