Blissful summer nights spent inside my grandmother's home,

Paradise.

Hum the song of angel's choir,

Find me peace.

Pots and pans clash into a symphony of comfort

As my sisters and I create the memories that hold us where we are now.

A place of renewal,

Where evil is diminished and the good flourish. 

My grandmother's home,

Paradise.

Bare feet in my grandmother's garden,

Chasing the fireflies of serenity.

Mason jars capture childhood dreams

as we fight to keep the innocent alive.

Crisp breezes graze the skin.

Wild laughter and thrilled smiles break the starlit sky.

My grandmother watching from afar,

Graced in the night's glow.

A true guardian angel.

My grandmother's garden,

Peaceful.

Sitting in my grandmother's living room,

Somber. 

Clasping tightly onto the butterfly necklace within the palm,

Traitorous heartache steals away the good.

Laying quietly,

The hum of my grandmother turned to a rasp.

Withering family members hold one another,

An angel's choir.

Once a place of renewal,

Now a place of death.

Nightmares creep up from the floorboards as we cry,

Oh the ticking clock.

Sitting in my grandmother's living room,

Somber.

Standing at my grandmother's funeral,

Dread.

Weeping to the deafening beat to the butterfly wing.

The ring in the ears never to silence as the body is betrayed by guilt.

Should have seen the signs,

Should have said I love you more often.

Undeserving as death sounds the chruch bells.

Call out the name of the lord,

Beg to be relieved of this pain.

Anger consumes as they say that old saying,

All things happen for a reason.

What reason is there to be heartbroken.

For what reason do we have to die.

Standing at my grandmother's funeral,

No closure.

Aftermath at my grandmother's home,

Nothingness.

Forced smiles and false hope are the only thing in sight,

It isn't real.

Trying to move on,

Trying to forgive,

Nothing is happening.

A place where evil is supposed to be gone,

Now grows in the cracks of my grandmother's garden.

No longer is it paradise as the house creaks and moans,

Forever mourning the loss of an angel.

Whose wings grew back too soon,

Taken away.

The aftermath at my grandmother's home,

Empty.