Closure

Do not call upon me, winds of the valley

You carry the springs of life ...sprouting for the sky

But I am the crumbling land left of the autumn woes

Barely a life left to enwomb, merely an ode to sing

To the unborn children of the many miserable lives

And to the grieving hearts of the lost minds

May there be another shore to show you the light

Let the new songs be of fairy tales and less of elegies

May your sorrowful soul find the redemption it seeks

For, every one of the human kind

Wander for the closure of  broken hopes.