8/9/26
The blood red leaves
Drip upon the ground
Their bare branch heaves
What an aching sound!
The drenched red floor
Glistens like a wound
Opened like a door
Whence a tomb is found
Alas, untimely death!
Must so soon I grieve?
What loss of youthful breath!
With the branch, I heave
Yet mingled with my tears
A stream of golden rays
Has quelled my swelling fears
With hope of future days
Where tears are wiped away
And sorrow turned to bliss
Immersed in endless Day
Embraced by those I miss
Pilgrim Poet 