When Death Begins to Mourn for Life
Mother, do you see me, through the shards of time;
Waiting for you to cook me a warm meal?
Maybe my stillness does not penetrate
To reach you amid this unsolicited mourning.
But I can see you through this seamless shroud, crisp and white;
Wailing over my cold shriveled flesh.
Why do you stare at the blood splattered on my garments?
Time will not wash it away, like it does everything else.
You kiss me, in anguish, one last time.
You ask me if I attained my salvation.
You remember hearing my footsteps just feet away from home;
Before everything got muffled by the sound of gunshots.
My redemption sleeps beneath the soft notes of your lullabies,
While your misery bathes itself mercilessly in the color of my longing.
Ask me not how far silence pierces the noise;
When death begins to mourn for life.