Bearing the Coffin
Bearing the coffin,
In silence and fear,
Pain that won’t soften,
The setting austere—
Rocks I have stood upon often,
Sighting the sun’s bloody sphere.
All the sea sighing,
To witness our woe,
Burgundy dying,
The heavenly flow,
Wind so lamentably sighing;
Rouge in the netherworld glow.
Roses in passion,
Bouquets showing love,
Arranged in compassion,
His body above,
Stepping on stones in brave fashion;
Flown to the sky is the dove.
The voice is resounding—
He reads the last rites,
In timbre astounding,
The solace delights,
So much emotion compounding,
With the sad scripture he cites.
High in the heaven,
The tern wheeling by,
Spirits will leaven,
To peace though we cry,
Numbering only eleven,
We usher his soul to the sky.
Death be his palace!
His rapturous home,
Silence his chalice,
As memories gloam,
Delivered from sorrow and malice, here where the breakers spit foam…
ADL
adamdaniel 