Poem of the deceased

As seen in

Poem collection

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand wins that blow,

across Tall tree's bright and shining snow.

I am the gentle showers rains,

On Siniadòr's fields of golden grain.

I am in the morning hush,

of Calames Jungle jungle, green and lush.

I am in the drums loud and grand,

the thunderous hooves across Lightfoot Land.

I am the stars warmly gleaming,

Over Megima softly dreaming.

I am in the bird that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Dot not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there, I do not die.