Ephermeral

Weep! Weep for that impatient soul,
too tender for this ugly, broken world.

Look upon that cold flower, there.
She had been ours, once upon a time,
that impatient angel who came so sweetly into our arms.
She came to us most hurriedly, eager angel,
yet she would not let us keep her long.
Our cold, bruised world was not suited to her tastes.

We, the blind and breathing, weep!
Mourning the loss of that impatient angel,
She whom the mysteries have called home.
She whose adventures would not be delayed
went from us gently, without protest.

And with the setting of her sunny eyes,
She sighed almost sweetly in departing.

Fleeting warmth surrendering breathlessly
To the wintry arms of an envious reaper,
The budding roses in her cheeks all wilting,
Too soon, much too soon for all our likings.

Briefly did we know her, but
O how dearly we did love her,
And how bitterly we all wept to say farewell.
Too soon, too soon, we cried.

Our greedy hearts could not hold her here,
all that lies beyond was not to be denied.

The mysteries have called her home.