(to the parents i just met.... may you find the strength to live)
~they sit in an analeptic embrace – yet so distant, so alone…...~
The cup of wine the angel spills
Intoxicates the blackened cloud,
Draping death in the despondent room –
Vermilion carpet, crimson shroud.
The empty pill bottle drowned –
Engulfed in the deluge of despair,
Blood splattered gun now absolved
Behind the veil of a frigid stare.
Bereft dreams cradled in the lap
Of unlived life screaming aloud,
The plundered womb chokes upon –
Vermilion carpet, crimson shroud.
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~bury with broken hands – what made you feel alive~
(they were the proud parents of a 16 yr old who shot himself)
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