Rustle of the leaves are heard by all,
None can prevent it from a dead fall,
What’s old will shed one day,
In the silent grave will they lay,
Quiet and calm without a sound,
They will adjust in the small grave mound.
Soon these souls will leave for the eternal miles,
Helplessly watching some tearful faces hiding smiles,
Mother Earth will take in the flesh leaving the bones,
That will be guarded by the beautiful grave stones,
With mounted garlands and candles glowing,
All will stow memories as time will start flowing.
Leaving the past to move ahead in life,
We will prepare oneself for the world of strife,
What’s lost will be lost without any return,
We are mass, forced to follow worldly pattern,
Remembering our loved souls once in a while,
Mostly when we will be cornered by the world so wile.
Sometime tomorrow will be my own turn,
As today I lost my wings to fly among the Erne,
So here I sit dejected beside the grave of my love,
Having all the feelings I expressed in the stanzas above,
Not sad nor afraid thinking of the sweet truth of life and death,
Just thinking how will I wipe the tears of my parents after my last breath.
Poet By Situation
Not By Birth….
This poem got published in http://allpoetry.com/poem/12269398-Who-will-wipe-their-tears–by-Poetbysituation