The beauty of dying songs (poem)

Grace of life's best songs.
Sings my soul
let the graves howl
till the tree's speak in tongues
.
The beauty of dying songs.
did the devil sing
but my spirit delight to swing.
Even to heavens gongs.

Once again death depress.
Ringing deeply at noon
from the great horrors of the moon
for now our ambition suffer'd the mistress

sing the songs my hand maid
Sing all the gladdens.
Sing at our gardens.
Sing now or never oh maidens.



By:
Beryl REM