With out words


Angel of Death
I am with out words today
only a trail of black ink
dipped in deepest sorrow
spilled across pages.
Pages that tell of tales so tragic.
Tales that spark hope,
then let them wash out to sea
on receding tides of time.
I can not envision, nor portray
nor lace your mind with magnificent enough thoughts.
For this day of tender sorrowfulness
has only offered drops of blacken tears
that stream down and rob us of our voice.
Stealing all words pending upon our mortal tongues
Though this feeling, this moment, shall live on
in silence, in a memory when no words could reflect upon it.