Of Ruins…

Yes, thou art gone! And never more Thy sunny smile shall gladden me; But I may pass the old church door, And pace the floor that covers thee, Yet, though I cannot see thee more, 'Tis still a comfort to have seen; And though thy transient life is o'er, 'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been; May stand upon the cold, damp stone, And think that, frozen, lies below The lightest heart that I have known, The kindest I shall ever know. To think a soul so near divine, Within a form so angel fair, United to a heart like thine, Has gladdened once our humble sphere.

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 25, 2025

Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew. In quiet she reposes: Ah! Would that I did too Her mirth the world required: She bathed it in smiles of glee. But her heart was tired, tired, And now they let her be. Her life was turning, turning, In mazes of heat and sound. But for peace her soul was yearning, And now peace laps her round Her cabin'd, ample Spirit, It flutter'd and fail'd for breath. To-night it doth inherit The vasty hall of Death.

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 25, 2025

Can I see another's woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow's share? Can a father see his child Weep, nor be with sorrow filled? Can a mother sit and hear An infant groan, an infant fear? No, no! Never can it be! Never, never can it be! And can He who smiles on all Hear the wren with sorrows small, Hear the small bird's grief and care, Hear the woes that infants bear And not sit beside the next, Pouring pity in their breast, And not sit the cradle near, Weeping tear on infant's tear? Oh, He gives to us his joy, That our grief He may destroy: Till our grief is fled an gone He doth sit by us and moan. And not sit both night and day, Wiping all our tears away? Oh no! Never can it be! Never, never can it be! He doth give his joy to all: He becomes an infant small, He becomes a man of woe, He doth feel the sorrow too. Can a mother sit and hear An infant groan, an infant fear? No, no! Never can it be! Never, never can it be! And can He who smiles on all Hear the wren with sorrows small, Hear the small bird's grief and care, Hear the woes that infants bear Think not thou canst sigh a sigh, And thy Maker is not by: Think not thou canst weep a tear, And thy Maker is not near.

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 25, 2025

Memories of broken past Shattered hope, they linger Of ruins will stand The lonely heart Time! It slowly fades away Becoming void Rust! All now will turn to rust Dust prevails Sands of time Swamp the Earth Tired land Of ruins… Fallen rain Cold as ice Washing us away Tired we watch For a new light of day But dawn brings nothing Only shadows

Submitted by NecroGod — Nov 14, 2025

All that the hand may touch; All that the hand may own; Crumbles beyond time’s clutch Down to oblivion. Fear not the boasts which wound: Fear not the threats which bind: Always on broken ground The seeds fall from the mind. Always in darkest loam A birthday is begun; And from its catacomb A candle lights the sun.

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025

Breathe no more World fades Stillness, Quiet space, Only echoes ring In silence… We stand Watching the world As it turns To nothingness Call me now I hear Serenity, Quietude, Sound no more Just silence… We stand Watching the world As it turns To quietness Endless, so endless Quietly forming space Echoes of silence Still ring

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025