Will you Think of me
in the odd moment's quiet tremor
where an echo slides
down a path of solitude
and a gleam of stars
reflects in quiet dark eyes
Will you Sing for me
when the silence hangs on breezes
cold and crisp from the East
Sweet and ardent words
couched in a filigree of rhyme
whisper through the Elms
Will you Pray for me
with solace and rare beauty
rising from a host of pure fire
And terrible admonishments
drawn from a cascade of dreams
lave my empty soul
Will you Hope for me
in waving grasses of undulating hills
startled by wayward winds
There on high boulder and scree
where memories of ice still cling
a cold history shines
Will you Cry for me
as the last harvest Moon wanes
behind an ocean of dead stalks
Dreamers search for final signs
and a longing for green
in a morning mist
Will you Bleed for me
when the hard battles rage from high
and angels trod on seas of sand
Rains from the tinctured clouds
sweep to other soils
leaving death lingering
Will you die for me
There on a killing field of stone
holding a final fatal wound
The harsh antagonists wield
a last true meaning
of a World's final end
