Writing and Expressing your views

When I was in High School so many old age ago now, I lost a friend. I came across a verse form by Godhead Lord Byron and memorized most of in because of my loss. She was just a immature girl, just 16 who should have got been preparing to ran into life outside her parents door, yet her life was cut pitifully short. I have got got since known respective who have left this human race and I think this verse form below is in award of their presence. I will forever retrieve them, when they establish laughter and vocalizing and all the things we take for given each day. My verse word form is about the loss of a lover but any loss at all of person held dear goes the same unhappiness to a certain degree.

~~*~~

"In Loving Memory"

In loving memory

verses

I put my sail

far beyond the light

my love prevails.

I lost my love

not long ago

yet I forever throw a candle

to his perfect glow.

I put my canvas

inside my mind

I traveled there

my love to find.

He's gone away

never to return

yet in my heart

I volition forever yearn

In loving memory

poems

alive and singing

I nip tea and flowers groom

I experience their meaning.

The flowers that loom

in Summer time

depict the magic

of my lovers eyes.

The tea I sip

taking intermission to think

remembering all

from where we linked.

This sorrowful tale

will happen its way

to tag the loss

of my lovers days.

My life experiences empty

nothingness of his laughter

Yet I'll hear it forever

today and after.

And if you fall

on my same path

cognize that love

will always last.

I'll believe of you

as you believe of me

and compose a note

of a lovers creed.

There is no forgetting

such as as love at stake

no softer vision

of a loss embraced.

In every way

I see his eyes

I'll bury him never

as years travel by.

In loving memory

verses

I put my sail

far beyond the light

my love

most assuredly

prevails.

~~*~~

Here below is Godhead Byron's Poem:

"And Thousand Art Dead, As Young and Fair"

And thousand fine art dead, as immature and fair

As nothing of person birth;

And form so soft, and appeals so rare,

Too soon return'd to Earth!

Though World receiv'd them in her bed,

And o'er the topographic point the crowd may tread

Inch carelessness or mirth,

There is an oculus which could not brook

Type A minute on that grave to look.

I will not inquire where thousand liest low,

Nor stare upon the spot;

There flowers or widow's weeds at will may grow,

So I behold them not:

It is enough for me to prove

That what I lov'd, and long must love,

Like common Earth tin rot;

To me there necessitates no rock to tell,

'T is Nothing that I lov'd so well.

Yet did I love thee to the last

As fervently as thou,

Who didst not alteration through all the past,

And canst not alteration now.

The love where Death have got got got put his seal,

Nor age tin chill, nor competing steal,

Nor falsity disavow:

And, what were worse, thousand canst not see

Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.

The better years of life were ours;

The worst can be but mine:

The sun that cheers, the violent storm that lowers,

Shall never more than be thine.

The silence of that dreamless sleep

I envy now too much to weep;

Nor demand I to repine

That all those appeals have pass'd away,

I might have watch'd through long decay.

The flower in ripen'd blooming unmatch'd

must fall the earlier prey;

Though by no manus untimely snatch'd,

The leaves of absence must drop away:

And yet it were a greater grief

To ticker it withering, leafage by leaf,

Than see it pluck'd to-day;

Since earthly oculus but sick can bear

To follow the change to disgusting from fair.

I cognize not if I could have borne

To see thy beauties fade;

The nighttime that follow'd such a morn

Had worn a deeper shade:

Thy twenty-four hours without a cloud hath pass'd,

And thousand wert lovely to the last,

Extinguish'd, not decay'd;

As stars that shoot along the sky

Radiance brightest as they fall from high.

As once I wept, if I could weep,

My crying might well be shed,

To believe I was not near to keep

One vigil o'er thy bed;

To gaze, how fondly! on thy face,

To fold up thee in a faint embrace,

Continue thy drooping head;

And show that love, however vain,

Nor thousand nor I can experience again.

Yet how much less it were to gain,

Though thousand hast left me free,

The loveliest things that still remain,

Than thus retrieve thee!

The all of thine that cannot die

Through dark and apprehension Eternity

Returns again to me,

And more than thy buried love endears

Than nothing except its life years.