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| Subject: A Dedication | |
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Author: irish [pagan] |
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Date Posted: 15:58:02 05/19/06 Fri He stands upon the brink of death, and all he feels is pain. His mind is closed to all our words, To him they're all the same. He stands alone upon the edge, I feel him slip away. The last time that I saw my friend, That sad and mournful day. My friend has leapt out of my life, I held him as he died. His soul was made from Gods own breath, And for him I'll cry. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |