Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Cadence - 2. Chapter 2
What in this world is more our own
Than the moment we die?
For what may we truly call ours
If not that last breath’s sigh.
From instant unto instant we
For stranger or a friend
Will find a missing lamb or coin,
A mystery to end;
One lost from common currency
Hardly betters our lives,
While sheep or friends, gone and wayward,
Care not if our soul thrives.
Still other eyes and ears search out
Those instants most serene
Of quiet contemplation when
No pressures may be seen
And we may turn our gaze inward
To see if fear is there
As we approach that final breath
In throes of calm despair.
So would I clasp your hand in mine
When moments grow too few
For confidences, jests or songs
Shared when our world was new.
This was a poem we wrote together.
- 4
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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