by Asher [Ark]
in somewhere new and exciting
The Chimes of My Sorrow
The breeze sweeps across my face
Reminding me of what is to come.
The wind sets a grueling pace
For the Chimes of Sorrow.
The chimes are named for my sorrows past,
For the Gloomy halls of my Memory.
Death is the least, the last,
of my multitude of sorrows.
My Father, taken before me,
Spirited away from home.
I can only hope he died quickly
As the fate that awaits us is filled with sorrow.
My Mother, stricken with grief
lay dead upon the ground.
upon her chest a single red leaf,
A symbol of her sorrows.
It is my turn to be taken away,
To follow my fathers lead.
Have I been led so far astray,
As to wait to be brought to the sorrow?
The breeze blows again, ringing the chimes
The time has come at last.
The blossoms of springs lovely times
Fall before the sorrows.
Then men in black come from their lair
ready to snatch me away.
Do I go? Do I Dare?
To Meet my Father in the lands of sorrow?
See more stories by Asher [Ark]