Dark Angels / Memories of the Passed

the dark angel stands with the stones of the dead
the trees standing witness to the things that she's said
those past sit and listen, then cannot do more
as life ebbs away towards a far away shore

they wait and they listen though the do not know why
for knowing is past them, no more can they cry
the tears that are wept are for memories of one
who no longer exists, having passed like the sun

the memories are all that can keep them alive
for some, they are strong and the memories thrive
for others with nobody mourning their days
they pass, like the breeze, into late evening haze


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