Painting ©Gogo 1968
The dead never die,
they murmur deep in the bone,
coursing in the blood,
touching the grass, the green hills,
with their immortal fingers.
Painting ©Gogo 1968
The dead never die,
they murmur deep in the bone,
coursing in the blood,
touching the grass, the green hills,
with their immortal fingers.
Words from the poemetry unit
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It feels like the painting was done afterwards to honour your words. Bravo.
I can’t decide if I find the painting peaceful or chilling, so I suppose it’s appropriate for our ambivalent feelings about death.
A peacefully haunted painting perhaps!
Exactly 🙂
I do love your writing style. Your creepy ones are the best! They send shivers down my spine Every. Single. Time .
And I wasn’t even trying then 🙂 Thanks Sonali! I rather like frightening myself, almost as much as making myself cry.
I didn’t read this as creepy. I was thinking more of how the dead remain in our memories.
That was how I intended it, but everybody has a different attitude to death.