Go On, O Ash

Poem By Ro'in Mao

Go on, o ash—dye all thy grey,
And leave the naked wind to say
'Farewell', to sing low in the deep
A song of rest, or endless sleep.

Begotten had this ruin what fire?
Did what bewasting rage inspire?
What rived the laughter-sounds of yore
To fallow dust of bygone lore?

Remember I the days of glee
When I held hands with reverie.
Our sun-cast smiles dub'd days sublime
And mirth-song gilded azure clime.

But as ordained, the bird took flight.
On sweet of life fell souring blight.
Asunder split by Death-fangs' gleam,
Bliss waned to aught, as does a dream.

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