Your feet are cold
the heart is still
Your lids are shut
the face is pale
She's in a better place, they say
but still tears flow
The sombre procession march
Nothing said, nothing told
Glances of sorrow
One glance
Another
Till the last look
Serenely she lies
The woman they love
and care for
The woman they loved
and cared for
The ignorant call it blind hope
Something said to heal hurts
But we too, look forward
to the day
We walked the face of this earth
(Dedicated to Auntie Angela, who passed away at the dawn of Sunday. This comes after a week of many deaths, including Krishen Jit whom I never got to meet. Rather death-heavy writings we've been getting these past months - which goes to show how real death is)
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