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Here's another 'cheery' (free form) poem from the end of life, as we know it.

Most Missed

by DesDownunder

The sights of life exist through my eyes,

Until my mind sees no more,

The touch of your hand,

Will be long gone,

And the scent of life, lost,

And what little taste was left,

Will have been swallowed in death.

I shall miss the silence of life,

In those moments when,

Nothing is heard, as distinct from,

Being unable to hear nothing, like,

The death of all things, expectation,

Is lost, anticipation is not possible,

For I will not hear my thoughts,

Or be waiting for the sounds,

Of the Earth, or hear your voice,

Or know the music of life.

Every experience, gone for me,

Every moment of elation,

Now only existing in how well,

I scatter my dusted thoughts,

Amongst the stars for others to find.

But until the moment ceases to be,

Life hears and sees itself through you and me,

And we can know our love of it all.
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