nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

BY YOUR GRAVESIDE

Winters shoulders ache
Under burden of snow
By your graveside
In bitter show
Darkened skies
A breeze to dance
Tears in eyes
A farewell glance.


So many years
Like rolling dice
My many sins
My many vice
Echo shrill
To moving trees
Forgive me I ask
Forgive me please.

The torch you left
Still burns bright
In my soul
My heart to light
I could not be 
As good as you
Though I tried
I look to you.