Cold winter's white blanket has bled grey-black from Jersey's sooty shores,
Here 'neath shadows of Wall Street's towered sky,
Here in Richmond, where ne'er he lived,
Here his aspirations lay lifeless,
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His aspirations lay lifeless, words voiceless, legacy meaningless. I haven't imagined, one can expose features of death in beautiful sequence like you. No doubt, death is ultimate destination and conclusion of life. An exceptional write, undeniably an incredible creation, dear poet
Beautiful poem. Love it. Please kindly check my poems HOPE and THE BEAUTY OF DEATH. Kingsley Egbukole
Nicelydone. I love the flow of words and ryhthm.