Everything is dead as I peer outside.
The time between winter and spring is vile to the mind.
The loneliness builds up with the cold days and nights.
The wind blows the thought of happiness aside.
As I silently whisper the things unsaid; I cry.
Letting go of everything inside.
The moon so silent as if so scared.
The woods so quiet as if not there.
Everything freezes, yet there is no snow.
This pleases the dead souls.
For they have a dead earth to walk upon, to wander upon.
Love and life is envied as they watch mortals mourn.
This life God has so graciously given them.
The wind blows the cold souls away, to their graves.
For the dead days are dim with the joy of life
Leilani Brodeur
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silent-whispers-5/
