And Angels cried...
Thud! , sends a nerve racking sound
the last to be made by you
as you begin your thousand years of silence
send forth by the words of the priest.
Wreathes; no more roses with 'I love you' cards
nor cheers with glasses of wine on anniversary days
only in memoriams with a stick of flower.
Tears; that is all you have left me
together with joyful memories turned sad
for I have nothing more to give other than the ashes in hand.
Rains; tell the tale of this very sad day
an irony, for it was the first nature's force
to approve of our relationship
now the last to end it
for it bears the tears of the angels too.