The Lonesome Walk
By Lord R.e. Taylor
Walk with me down the loneliest path
A path where the spoken voice is never heard
But cries of past sorrows faintly echo through the marble
So many years have passed with so much death
More than enough death to build a city of tombs
Sometimes a bitter smell fills the air
Sweet and sickening at the same time
A last reminder that, despite what you believe
These pathways are not made for the living
They are there for those who cannot walk with us
But they are always there, maybe closer than you think
© Poem – VIII/I/MMXXVI
LRET
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