Sliver of Happiness

It’s hard to write of happiness, when darkness is all around. Of death and dying, and children crying, their cries not making a sound. It’s hard to smile in the face of life, when all it throws is poison. And every sip and every taste only leads to more tears. When he calls her beautiful, and when her wounds are healed, the darkness fades to light. All the past and history is dead within the fight. Nothing could ruin a sliver, the taste which still remains. It’s buried in the palm of her hand, beneath the tears and the blood stains.