For he is now gone
Far from the place that he once belonged
With one shot
His temple fell into foreign ground
The rubble making no sound
His last memory was of red and dirt,
With feelings of only hurt
His homely roots became a mere smudge in his head
Thoughts of peace and love escaping with his final breath

Tears of a barren soul sink into a dying Earth-
Giving birth to only prickly vines and stubborn weeds
An empty womb,
A full tomb
-His parting gifts,
Haunting her with thoughts of agony and emptiness.
He lives only in picture frames
in books, and in her brain.
Those things that once were,
Haunt a good night’s sleep.

In a town shaken by shock
In a country ravaged by rage
In a world polluted with poison
Littered with the bodies of those who never age
With the minds of those stay in the same place
One’s true struggle
is trying to move on.