Grief
Grief rolls in on waves,
And the ebb and flow of
Memories flood in
Like a winter tide
The tears rain,
Enough to fill an ocean.
No sun to dry them,
No good holding back.
The tide won't turn.
The sun won't change its course.
The dead won't be resurrected.
The storm on the horizon is here,
And the sun hides behind
Dark grey clouds of despair.
We mark their passing,
Scattering what remains
Into the sea
To ease passage
To the next Life,
And hear misery,
Crashing on the shore.
Copyright © Peter Barlow | Year Posted 2023
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