Into The Paupers Grave

When I die,
down to a paupers grave I shall go.
No one to cry over my coffin
or weep over my memory.
I shall leave no legacy behind,
and in time I shall only be
remembered on the wind of
fleeting breath at a reunion.

Maybe…

So who shall weep for me?
Does anyone weep for me?
Alas, I feel that only I weep
for me, and into oblivion is
where I belong, where even God’s
Hand cannot reach out to me.
In darkness and vast space of
nothingness, maybe here is where
I shall finally find peace.

Maybe…

Into The Paupers Grave

Leyla Hur

Kanata, Canada

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  • Leyla Hur
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