The craving of the heart
Intensified by the start
Of the wheel of life
Filled with endless strife.
The mind mutters words
Double edged swords
Cutting through the shell
Leaving an immortal yell.
Pain, it filters through
Like the light chill of dew
Down my veins it goes
Till the tip of my toes.
The world is forlorn
The road is still long
Loss seems unending
The wounds unmending.
AN: Written years ago in memory of my grandmother, I find myself looking back and rediscovering the depth and emotion once more with the death of my father. Death makes everything else seem so shallow... so unimportant. It claims everyone, leaving behind many in mourning. In the end, the dead remain dead and the living must forge a way forward.
No comments:
Post a Comment