Untitled photograph

In a picture, not taken
And lies, less mistaken,
Lives a sorrow so deep
It makes the willows weep-
Dropping tearful sighs
As a grown heart dies
Wandering his path of lies,
No sun can warm his cold,
Only one can fill his hold.

Past the mountains
Through the plains,
Sadness surrounds his ever pains,
In cries he echos
Over rivers toppling meadows,
And obscure song sounds
Wandering his undanced grounds,

Death cutts through his bones
The words that he'll die,
So in mercy he moans
I'm sorry and good-bye.