She lay in the dark and cried.
He sent word; ink from a normal pen
Nothing unique about the paper
She felt every word as if it was being tattooed into her skin
She lay in the dark and cried.

She knew his purpose; it’s why she loved him
If he chose to leave the last months would be waste
Love would be lost; the worry
No superhuman can prepare for would have served no purpose

Who can train you on how to avoid a gaping hole when he leaves?
What prepares you for the worry that soon a casket may lay before you?
Does the greater purpose fill the desolate heart?
Or the honor he brings rid you of the fear of the outcome?
Nothing but his words can allow the bigger picture to sink through and the honor soothe the pain.

As the ink penetrated to her heart
It spoke: “My Life,
Worry not for my body
My heart belongs to you
Worry not for my mind
It repeats your voice and our thoughts are intertwined
Worry not for my wounds
My blood is safe within our sons
Healthier than when I left.”

With two rivers flowing down pink sunsets
Pearls sparkling
She lay in the dark and cried.