The war was over.
Silence covered the battleground
Punctured only by staccato whispers
Bouncing off the bullet-ridden walls.
Women transformed
Into widows
as they prodded dead boots
and wiped bloodied foreheads.
The Angel of Death muttered,
‘I didn’t sign up for this.’
God whispered, ‘Me neither.’
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Death is the end. Or, is it?
I know it seems morbid to start on this note after a hiatus from blogging but circumstances have compelled me to begin here, at the end. I’ve never written a eulogy for anyone but have always wondered what it took to write one, especially if you’ve been close to the person.
Here I stand, open to the world.
My heart bursts open
Expelling my grief,
Screaming in outrage,
‘This is unfair’
As I see the body lie beneath my gaze.
He’s gone.
Silenced
Frozen
Unmoving,
Here I stand.
