Even In Death

Mine be the sign of enchanted life
Free from will, and all matters of strife!
Less I be in as much, as a humble man
Then to walk with thine heart, in open hand

This be thy moment of my missed contempt
And I'll be thy beacon, of my own relent
Conflict lies in my quill! Late in the night
Where now I do rest, burdened by plight

Have thine own eyes, been blinded by sleet
Earth for my pillow, no slip for my feet!
Thou have turned thy heart into dust
Lost in thy depths, consumed by my lust

Turmoil breeds by the whims of my breath
Thou hath, endeared me, even in death!
Dead as I am, in turn do I crust?
Alone in thy paster, burdened by lust!

Deem be thy day, in my disarray
Beside still waters, bound in the bay
Vexed as I am, by the bow of my string
Ever so humbled by the light, which I bring!

| Poetry 1 | Poetry 2 | Poetry 3 | Poetry 4 |

| Poetry 5 | Poetry 6 | Poetry 7 | Poetry 8 |

| Poetry 9 | Poetry 10 | Poetry 11 | Poetry 12 |

| Poetry 13 | Poetry 14 |

Copyright © Darryn John Murphy