She followed the procession
as one now uninvolved--
where the remains
bore no resemblance
--from what it had evolved.
Voices; shadowed reason,
--now so little clay--
enclosed between
unspoken words
deep, beneath the gray
Dry-eyed, she searched remembrance
no veil upon her head
for mourning bore no purpose,
--no reason
to grieve the dead
For what are words
picked clean of bone,
but fodder for the brave
--just the final comedy
of where to place the grave.
`
Comments
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So very, very sad this is!
Wow!
This is so poignant, one could cut the sadness with a knife!
Deep!
I wish you the very best in this contest, poet!
~Heavenly~
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