By Sunder
Grave, grave eyes you gazed and gloom
Deadpan and dazed as you caress the noose
Like a dynamite about to explode, it fused
Naught—everything crashed and boomed, I cussed.
As frail as a child’s neck, a flower’s stem-
Pruned to perfection, but fragile and bent
How endearing is goodbye, how bitter is farewell
Godspeed, dear friend. I hope you well.
Carelessness is all our fault, our worst sin
We hope we could see you, “How had you been?”
We hope you could answer, unless this we seen-
This mess all of us made, with red, black debris
Wine as sweet as honey, luscious as gourmet
Like a moth to a flame, we swiped it fast
To know with humility, to show so amicably
The desire to regret the ignorance we carry
Grave, grave eyes you gloom and gazed
Pale, pale cheeks without color nor smile.
Cold, cold hands I managed to raise,
No pulse I feel in your dormant veins.