Death Strikes
Death Strikes
There is was, as far as I could see,
The deathly sight that would horrify many for all of eternity.
From the dark corner of the room stood a weeping mother, moping with gloom,
For her only child was swallowed up by a balloon, flailing her arms in futile desperation,
While her mother could only stare and stand,
Waiting.
I could hear the child’s screams fading into gasps,
With pain so tangible that you could grasp.
I could see the fear, brimming to the top of her eyes,
While her mother stood alone and afraid as she cried.
I could hear the child’s heartbeat slowing to a stop,
And I heard her mother’s poor wailing heart drop.
The tension in the air ceased,
But the mother could not help but be weak,
As no one––not me, not anyone else––could have prevented such as catastrophe.
And as I stood there,
Recollecting these thoughts,
I saw the awful turmoil that death has wrought.
By Karishma Devika Kumar
November 8th, 2009
Copyright © Karishma Kumar | Year Posted 2010
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