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Yahoshua · 10-22-06, 12:56 AM

I write a little bit. Out of every 30 or so I only find one that really good enough to share, but that's just my opinion.

Robert Frost and Shel Silverstein are the top two in my book.

Other poets down the road come to mind, but not so much as these two.

I don't remember reading Byron, perhaps I should check around on his. Or you could post your favorite Byron poems.

*EDIT*

Eh....I thought about it, I may as well post it here:

This poem was written in response to some guy who asked a general question on Yahoo.com about what happens to your soul after death. I wrote it as a response to his answer. I didn't put a title to it yet.

The long dark sleep, condemned to die,
rooted in hallowed ground wherein we lie.

A fading light, our single breath,
The soul is gone, we are at rest.

Can one return to tell his tale,
Of withered morrow and lonely vale?

When doth one end, to another begin,
Discerning love, laughter, sin?

Can one answer of their lonely tale,
Deserted town, unanswered hail?

Can one change his doom,
With him in the room?

Was he great or strong,
Raising cheers from joyous throng?

Was he evil, was he good,
Standing ground on where he stood?

Was he selfish, was he small,
Was he rich, was he tall?

Was he great, was he kind,
Was he poor, or sane in mind?

None great nor small,
Avoid the coming call.

The young, the foolish,
The old, the wise.

The rich, the poor,
The kind, the cruel.

Who can defy the morning cry,
A bitter weeping, the death we die.

A silent breath, deaths' embrace,
A silent prayer, a request for grace.

The pen is writing, the book is closing,
Sleep therein, a quiet dozing.

A fading light, our single breath,
The soul is gone, we are at rest.

10-22-06, 12:56 AM	#4
Yahoshua The Old Man Join Date: May 2006 Posts: 1,493 Downloads: 0 Uploads: 0	I write a little bit. Out of every 30 or so I only find one that really good enough to share, but that's just my opinion. Robert Frost and Shel Silverstein are the top two in my book. Other poets down the road come to mind, but not so much as these two. I don't remember reading Byron, perhaps I should check around on his. Or you could post your favorite Byron poems. EDIT Eh....I thought about it, I may as well post it here: This poem was written in response to some guy who asked a general question on Yahoo.com about what happens to your soul after death. I wrote it as a response to his answer. I didn't put a title to it yet. The long dark sleep, condemned to die, rooted in hallowed ground wherein we lie. A fading light, our single breath, The soul is gone, we are at rest. Can one return to tell his tale, Of withered morrow and lonely vale? When doth one end, to another begin, Discerning love, laughter, sin? Can one answer of their lonely tale, Deserted town, unanswered hail? Can one change his doom, With him in the room? Was he great or strong, Raising cheers from joyous throng? Was he evil, was he good, Standing ground on where he stood? Was he selfish, was he small, Was he rich, was he tall? Was he great, was he kind, Was he poor, or sane in mind? None great nor small, Avoid the coming call. The young, the foolish, The old, the wise. The rich, the poor, The kind, the cruel. Who can defy the morning cry, A bitter weeping, the death we die. A silent breath, deaths' embrace, A silent prayer, a request for grace. The pen is writing, the book is closing, Sleep therein, a quiet dozing. A fading light, our single breath, The soul is gone, we are at rest. __________________ Science is the organized unpredictability that strives not to set limits to mans' capabilities, but is the engine by which the limits of mans' understanding is defined-Yahoshua Last edited by Yahoshua; 10-22-06 at 01:43 AM.