Around the darkest hour,
Few inches from my stalwart arm was a glass of whiskey on the table shelf.
And a photo frame hanging over my rocky bed.

The feeling of grief crawled upon me and I was smitten by its haunting jest.
Far beyond my urban stead, was a Queen lying amongst the departed on their glorious bed.

The land has swallowed my precious gem, covered in dust never to breathe our precious air!
Trying to embrace her transient, feels like walking the desert for the first time.

What beautiful beginning that never saw the end!
what a bright star that was stolen by the cruel night.!

I long for her whispers like warm wind whirling over my cold mind.
If I could steal treasure from the grave, I'll steal memories and talents covered by dust, I once said.
Now I would steal back the smile, the life that was taken by wicked death.

Oh! mother, was it not our story that when life tests, you will be there.
I had to put my shoulders to the wheel, and now I'm on the crest of wave.
Hope you see how I'm faring well!

Send me a reminder by raindrops falling like heaven's tears.


© Michael_Snelder