Cruel Nights

It's either you cry forever or not at all

When a loved one is taken by this world.

For once a tear flow has dried up,

A person becomes a thing.

Time flows like sand through fingers.

Fence your still beating heart,

Behind words dripping not with blood, but resolve.

Like a child searching for his mother,

Become obsessed, unable to see anything else.

Never forget her face, become uncompromising even to time.

On these Cruel Nights,

Don't kneel and see your reflection in puddles.

If so you'll weep,

The tears that aren't meant for you.

They are water for memories planted on the day of the funeral.

Injuries open, but will someday close.

Flowers of tragedy both current and long passed bloom.

It's laughable how frenzied we become while searching.

But you have to, and you will until you too go to bed.

Oh Cruel evenings....