Does death always look so serene. Like a sleeping babe.
When the soul leaves this infant boy will the air still like his mourning mother.
Her tears will bathe him one last time before the earth does.
Don't weep too loudly as not to wake the dead.
All dressed in black like a thunder cloud; the skies will open and wind will howl.
Tissue will wipe red eyes as shaky hands hold white roses.
His eyes stay shut though his mother cries. She touches his statuette face, her fingers through his curls. Kiss him softly and say good bye.
Sweet dreams...
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
Does death always look so serene. Like a sleeping babe.
When the soul leaves this infant boy will the air still like his mourning mother.
Her tears will bathe him one last time before the earth does.
Don't weep too loudly as not to wake the dead.
All dressed in black like a thunder cloud; the skies will open and wind will howl.
Tissue will wipe red eyes as shaky hands hold white roses.
His eyes stay shut though his mother cries. She touches his statuette face, her fingers through his curls. Kiss him softly and say good bye.
Sweet dreams...