The bomb dropped.
And I was away.
Your gentle tears fell.
And I was absent.
My imagination was like a television set.
Stuck on repeat.
I saw vivid scenes through my head,
my very own crystal ball.
Your blonde hair, bedraggled.
Your green eyes drowned by red.
Your cheeks scarred with black lines.
I wanted to hold you, like a mother,
andsoftly say "You'll be ok."
But a mother to daughter, could not
tell such a brutal lie.
You've lost something dear,
something close to you.
A vital organ, a part of you.
For that what she was like to you
bonded with you by blood.
The spark ignited,
and issued your pain
and a terrible story exploded
But my lovely, I will be here,
my shoulder: your handkerchief
I know not how to deal with something like this
but my hand will stay in yours with each step.