A Ballad for Death

A compilation of the first 500 poems I ever wrote.
I write in my free time accross different styles and themes, sometimes there are reasons to what I write and sometimes there are not, but I always try to follow my inspiration.


456. I will never be sixteen again

Some of my words,

As summer birds,

Are destined to fly away and to simply fade,

Away with the meaning,

Away with the feeling,

Instead of bright spotlight they bathe in the cool shade,

Not engraved in stone,

Not carved in marble,

To be left alone

And in time garble,

Let the symbols erode to the passage of time

And let the sweet honey drown down the bitter lime,

For words are just words

And though they endure,

Only you give power

Let the meaning lose two out of their thirds

‘Cause the last one is yours all future

So nevermore cower

But let not your valour

Turn into carelessness,

Keep your two feet planted firmly on the floor

And let you mind wander and wonder higher,

Trust in their meaning and this trust shall be twinned,

They shall never lie,

Let them give what they must, what you desire,

But you cannot keep them caged, words must wind,

So, then, let them fly…

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