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I first read this when my sister's friend, Tiff, gave it to her. I don't know the name of it, but the meaning is what matters.
Do not stand over my grave and weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in morning's light
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
***
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there...I did not die.
-Mis's friend Tiffany M.
Ever been in a relationship from Hell? Yes? Then you'll most likely be able to relate to this.
In the hushed, lonely hours of the world's nightly sleep
I'm at one with the moon and the vigil I keep
I sense that you're near; you're awake, and it warms
My soul, in which darkness takes many new forms.
The ripe secret garden that abounds in my mind
Assures me that NO ONE is able to find
The Key that unlocks my emotions and fears
That seep from my heart to become my own tears.
In all my complexity, I am the same
As anyone else, for my dreams still remain.
The Power I choose to keep hidden inside
Enables my thoughts, which may change you, to hide.
So let what you see become only a part
Of the person I am; keep in mind from the start
I can love you or hurt you, so take care what you do -
For what happens between us is
ALL UP TO YOU.
-DarkAngel 1995.
This was written last year, when one of the sweetest guys in the whole world passed away. RIP, Dave - we miss you. :(
Life is but a memory.
You feel it slowly slipping by.
Each day is gone, never to come again.
It cannot be repeated, relived, or changed;
It can only remain
As it was, and never will be.
Some days, Death waits around the corner of the wall.
Its ghastly face and red-rimmed eyes appear
A reflection in the mirror of mortality - whose face do YOU see?
Traces of blood on an empty skull...is it my double, or is it me?
How can we look forward to the future
When there is no guarantee it will become?
In the secluded hush of the hours after midnight
I am ready to recede into The Past.
Was I really alive? What did I leave behind to document the evidence of my being?
The doubts and questions haunt me,stealing clusters
Of the most precious of gifts
Which is Time.
Are bitter tears wasted? Does laughter truly hold meaning?
Or is emotion merely an illusion upon the spectator of life?
Life is a memory.
As each day passes,
Let it go. Let it fade to the blackness of forever gone.
Take from it what you need, you will never come back.
Let it go.
-DarkAngel 1997.
Feel free to let me know what you think. You can e-mail me - let me know if you want me to write
back.
demon_queene@hotmail.com