Never alone

More Sunday word vomit

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One final sleep

‘neath blankets cold

of eath and clay and stone.

 

And to my end I walk at last

no evermore, or well lived past

and to the darkness wide and vast

I enter all alone.

 

And you shall be my final thought

my life, my hopes, my joy

remember me, the things I wrought,

my kind and loving boy.

 

 

 

 

 

Author: Michael

Husband, dad,programmer, comic collector and proud Yorkshireman. I have no idea why im here or why im writing but i rather enjoy it. no great fan of punctuation;

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