The Widows Cry
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Wrote this after observing my friend after she lost her husband.
Crying out in anguish.
Flesh, and blood, and voice!
A cleansed soul left to dry!
Such searing pain, such poise.
Gnashing waves rise,
to salty eyes.
No mercy!
No release shall fall!
How shall she live,
this wicked life?
What will become,
of these hollowed walls?
She cannot breathe!
She cannot fight!
All hope has faded,
gone from her sight.
You! All the many you!
Know you this pain?
Her lifes mate!
How shall she bare,
empty weight?
This lifeless spirit!
She bleeds dry, in daily strides.
Oh, a survivor she is, to be sure.
Rising naturaly as the tides.
Tho this unseasoned shell...
will prevail.
It is not a happy day!
Ner a voice is heard!
Love! Love!
Oh Love!
This union, this best!
All seeking, in times test.
Upon her face, balances some hope.
Who now, shall give testament to this life?
When all is woe unto this widowed wife.
Copyright © Karen Van Wyk | Year Posted 2012
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