The Tomb of a Suicide
The tomb of a suicide, standing in stone,
I lie on the grass weeping softly, alone,
Cowering here, in mine very own arms,
Gladly remembering all of her charms…
A comely gay friendship, forged bright through the years,
Crying and sobbing — my sorrow it clears!
Mired in a misery palpable strong,
It’s here with my friend that I rightly belong!
Summoning memories vivid in youth,
Oh how I loved her, I loved her in sooth!
Manifold happiness formed by our glee,
“Together forever” we’d say merrily.
Laura, my comrade, my dearest, my dove!
Purer than morningrise fanning above,
A heart perfect heavenly, tempered by God,
And now I lie stricken, alone on the sod…
She leapt in the river and died there that day,
Suicide sadness usurping her stay,
There from the bridge over rocks down below,
She ended her life and to heaven did go.
Bereft with the death of her father she was,
Her mother so feeble and frail, old Francoise,
The loss of her father a sadness too keen,
Her feelings compounding to ill temper spleen.
She hated her helplessness, deeply bereft,
Her very heart riven, implacably cleft,
Her decision precipitous, gushing with tears,
A flood of emotions provoking her fears.
Suicide claimed her, in water she drowned,
No one to hear her, she made not a sound,
Plunging below like a blithely thrown rock,
She plummeted long and she died with the shock.
Now she lies hidden, entombed in the grave,
Not even my friendship her spirit could save,
So now in the garden she’s peaceful and still,
Abiding alone with the trees on the hill.
Peace in abundance — forever her home,
Sent to a paradise, lost in the gloam,
Here on the grass with the lillies I sob,
Mourning her faithfully my secret job…
AD Lovkis, 16/08/25
adamdaniel 