Note To The Departed

Through the silence,

I listen.

Your soft breath caresses my ears,

With a feathery whisper.

Your presence lingers

Even after you're long gone.

Ashes to dust,

To dirt you fall deeper,

And deeper,

And deeper.

The only remainder,

A stone,

An epitaph in words not your own.

A phantom image,

In the corner of my cruel eye,

Playing tricks on me.

You rest in a box,

When you deserve the Taj Mahal.

You decay with the earth,

When you deserve the to dance on the Rings of Saturn.

Through the silence,

I listen,

To your soft voice telling me,

This is not where you're meant to be.

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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