... Applachia ..., ... death ..., ... experimental ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... night ..., ... pain ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... religion ..., ... the South ..., ... time ...

Amaranth

Oh honest Moon,
Oh fragile Night,
Draw near to
My immortal Amaranth.

Though unending,
Life is yet
The more delicate
In Your pallid gaze.

My Friend has departed,
Made fodder for
Old Reaper’s sickle.

Bewildered we wait
‘Neath God’s great cloud,
Until Holy blooms wither
And He cuts us all down.

~ rest in peace Shane, my truest beloved friend.

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