A river of bitter tears
cuts a deep, winding path
down my trembling cheeks.
My dark, hazel eyes burn like fire,
and are red from the heat of pain.
The sweet toll of the mission bells
of joy have become silent.
Leaving my heart lying in the bitter
ashes of utter despair.
The glorious glow of my soul has been
snuffed out leaving me a bitter, old man.
As I lie upon the cold bed of life awaiting
death's sweet, comforting call to eternal rest.
Donavon Scott Vinson