It hurts, to see her hurt.

 

Lying on the floor,

 

Still as can be,

 

Like my breath waiting for hers

 

in the crematory.

 

I can see the pain in her eyes,

 

The tremble on her lips,

 

As she’s pushed away, incessantly.

 

The flash of lights,

 

The distress on their faces.

 

My soul cries out in agony

 

as if a rhetorical question,

 

Makes me question if this is really happening.