DEATH Poem: Youth in Asia, by Bradley Hall

In the quiet of the night, where whispers fade,
A final breath is drawn, a life unmade.
The weight of years, a burden too profound,
Surrendered now, to silence so profound.

Yet in the dimmest dark, a spark ignites,
A journey new begins, beyond the lights.
From ashes cold, a tender shoot emerges,
A soul reborn, where eastern dawn surges.

In bustling streets, where cherry blossoms fall,
A child awakes to life, so light, so small.
The past a distant echo, soft and faint,
Yet deep within, an artist starts to paint.

The colors bright, the winds of change do blow,
A youth in Asia, where new rivers flow.
The ancient soul, now in a tender frame,
Finds peace in breath, yet whispers of the same.

In every step, a memory, a trace,
Of lives once lived, now gone without a trace.
Yet hope prevails, in every beat, each breath,
For life renews, transcending even death.

In every sunrise, in each drop of rain,
A silent song of joy, and of pain.
For in the cycle, endless and profound,
Youth in Asia finds where life is found.

So let the poets write, in rhymes, in verse,
Of endings, beginnings, the universe.
For in the telling, a truth is realized,
That in each end, a new life’s disguised.