She’ll always be
A Cross Creek Cat.
Seven pounds of pure will
She always had my back.
Wisdom
When you get older
Your bones get colder
And time takes
Your memories away.
Whisper
I am just a whisper
In your ear.
There is nothing about me
That you should hold dear.
Gathering
Gather together
Those that will harvest
So that we may sing,
Drink wine, and eat bread.
Discord
The dark and sad sorting has begun.
We will not be as great
As we had become.
What we were will be undone.