Sharply grimacing families and close friends,
Standing in front of a sullen, gray box.
Skies hover over and slowly become somber,
Softly rumbling like a stomach longing for sustenance,
Starting to tear up, a baby that had been waiting
Such a long time for the mother who never came
So much like the remains of the red string of life cut in half.
Sweet rain drips down their ashen cheeks
Silently, as they taste water, the remaining drops
Snake down their chins,
Sharply freefalling, but like
Snowflakes when jumping on the
Sleek evergreen, that just bobs,
Shaking under its weight.
Still standing, they turn their heads from the rain.
Staring at the rectangular prison
Skillfully being dropped into the hole.
Severed lives shall keep her forever
Safe, never to be alone again. But all who are present
Scowl, glaring at the stone slab,
Still feeling woken up with a bucket of cold water.
Shoulders sagging from the burdening grief and
Sudden water thrown across peaceful faces
So many silent questions,
Such empty answers. All holding the
Same white flowers. Shining, black
Shoes lightly touching the ground,
Slowly pacing to the filled hole,
Stem in hand, soaked petals that
Softly touch the stone slab.
Standing in front of her carved name.
Sometimes she was surrounded by golden purity.
Sweet words she used to say, happy grin that
Seemed to be stapled across her face, and a
Slow leave from history.