Epitaph
Stranger passing by,
stop and rest your feet.
Watch the butterflies
dance on the summer wind
before my marble eyes
that cannot see their wings.
Watch them, while you still can,
under the summer skies.
They don’t dance long, stranger.
Butterfly of Death --Yury Krylou
ReplyDeleteIf, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl.
― H.L. Mencken