Your last journey

 

~{}~

 

the last time we  met ,  you were already absent

your eyes seemed  not to be there anymore

and whatever we said,  is already forgotten

the train was all steamed up and ready to go

the man with no face blew his definite whistle,

no sound is so rotten, no image so cruel

the rain joined the absolute grey of the mourning

and the cold wind that blew

on that last Winters day

took your last breath  away

and it silenced your heart

nothing so sad than watching this train slowly start

the last time we met , you were already dying, dear friend,

to have known you and seen you before your last journey

to have known you at all, till the end,  I’m glad

 

~{}~

 

entry for jinglepoetrypotluck