On Death's dark path, my friend has gone, <br />That final road we fear to tread, <br />Confined to dust, a light which shone <br />How all too brief, for He is dead. <br /> <br />Now only cloth and bones remain <br />Beneath that earth, an awful form <br />Of human fate, where he has lain <br />Unmoving, whence the gnawing worm <br /> <br />Has conquered his once thinking brain <br />That died for love; all mortal grief <br />Was his, whose heart, baptised by pain, <br />As delicate as any leaf <br /> <br />Once broken from its natal tree, <br />That felt not those delights of day <br />As others did who wandered free. <br />Unceasing time has chased away <br /> <br />Those happy hours we did share, <br />When youth was strong, and night was deep, <br />Still murmured through the fragile air <br />A friendship fate could never keep. <br /> <br />No more the sea will sound for him, <br />Nor daylight penetrate those eyes, <br />The wasted moon has died with him, <br />As constellations fall and rise. <br /> <br />Each year the changing seasons pass, <br />And still your mother comes to weep, <br />To grieve on that small plot of grass <br />In sufference, while yet you sleep.<br /><br />Sacha Hayes O'Grady<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-friend-52/
