Vigil
Dusk’s gathering of souls each gesturing in solemn code
Remembering their dead kindred’s past
As flowers and their last remains are cast
into the ocean’s embrace
Nothing fulfilled their heart’s void or replaced
Lost love , stolen during their most tender time
Sometimes a child’s fate’s unkind
Each kindred child yearning an intimate past
An Inherent truth of fate , poisoned their sacred blood will everlast
The lost’s kindred mature through solemn emulation
How the young children integrate without elder expectations
Practiced verbatim...echoes, remind... many of their trying times
Each immersed in solemn prayer , in memory of the past
Unseen their faithful savior’s task
Some fail to realize
some miracles are invisible to pain veiled eyes
and to strangers whom the lost remain statistical
Perhaps divine intervention’s mythical
to those grieving whose belief is now disdain
The dead number as the stars , each is a candle flamed
burning in celebration of those unnamed
Withheld faithless anger is diffused by regret
as the elders were unable to avoid their children’s death
Wisdom , blind faith, and prayer is critical
Though most would trade this fate , to escape pain of vigil
Copyright © Troy Tinsley | Year Posted 2006
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