Victor H. Earnest
How sad, how poor; we are eaten up by the chase.
Hurtled all around, we sob and rustle
As if we resemble winnowed leaves
Since life path tramples our heart castle.
Wondering the yonder of the shades
“Let bygones be bygones” no longer holds true.
Why autumn evermore betrays lovers
Dispersing men and scattering ladies
The ease of souls someday blossom with peace
No doubt resurrection lays bare
The repose of hearts; fleeting and deceased,
Turning our shadows into reality.