She married him only last week,
Seeing his caskate makes her weak,
Her tears a constant drizzle,
The 'why' is still a riddle
He was the only son of a widow,
always by her side like a shadow,
A stray bullet went through his head,
She meant the whole world,
His soulmate ,
heaven could not wait,
the worst landing of a pilot
She wishes she could change the fate,
The priests says rest in peace,
The relatives bead their farewells,
In their dark dresses as it drizzles,
Her parents are now 'the late,'
Her only hope and light,
She is the new target,
She seeks the love in the streets,
He finds comfort in his drinks,
Her old heart weakens in her mourns,
A dark emptyness on each soul,
As days pass it gnaws and grows,
A passageway for the Angel in Black ,
YCan one break the cycle?
Another procession of black lays the caskate,
No one escapes the fate,
Rest In Peace.
Sending…
they said human beings are like grass, like wild flowers, in the morning they grow and blossom, in they evening they wither.
