For The Living

by E.T. Scyffore

In my haste, I said, "I will never love again."
But what is love without loss
And loss without tears?
Do not tears accompany life
And life its near kinsman...death?

Can love live apart from man?
Or can man survive without love?
Will the grave sing raptures to those fallen in the apex of love?
Or is her intent to mock the living with mournful litany 
of a love's departed grace?

Who shall sing for the living;
As they attempt to march like stalwart soldiers 
upon life's battlefield while carrying memories 
of the mighty fallen in battle?
Tell me...will it be you?

Who shall comfort the living with words of exhortation 
amidst the personal struggles and conflicts which rage at the mourner's soul?
Tell me...will it be you?

Who shall remind the living to go on?
For to live they must despite the beckoning to fall down in dismay
refusing to witness the joys of living another day.
Tell me...will it be you?

Who shall instruct the living that death has no ending, 
for life yet remains and nothing abides the same.
Indeed, that which has transcended will once again be revived
And they which remain shall behold the culmination of life never ending;
A place where death's song has been silenced 
and the grave no longer enthralls with her raptures from beyond.

Who shall herald to the living such news?
Tell me...will it be you?

In memory of Linda Marie Palmer

For The Living by E.T. Scyffore

© Copyright 2007. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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