The Funeral

July 9, 2010
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The day had dawned,
We had risen,
Dressed in black we led a procession.
In the silence I had shivers,
Shaking like mad waves,
Crashing down my conscious.
It wasn’t cold.
Sparks of red lined my vision,
Concealing what I should see.
The birds were calling,
Each one screamed in beautiful pain.
Scattered shards of light fell through the trees,
Each one sharp,
Piercing me as deep as every memory.
I looked around me,
All were in pain…
Some masked with laughter,
Some with anger and others,
Just by bitterness.
From the hall came streaming ribbons.
I observed no color,
Only shadow.
He’d said to have a party,
He’d said to celebrate his life,
And yet,
He’d ceased to living.
Salted streams came flowing,
Writing lines upon my face.
I let them come,
That with consciousness comes living,
And in living there is death.

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