yet they say time heals,
I doubt that is true,
death comes daily to our lives,
yet no one can get used to it,
The pain of seeing a hearse,
moving slowly like a chameleon,
with sad hymns trembling a heart?
a casket drowning in a grave,
like a titanic ship drowning into the sea,
who has a lion’s heart,
to heal from that horrific pain?
like a thief,
it robs us of the lives of our loved ones,
leaving our hearts bleeding,
we can only clinch on memories,
that fade with time like discolouring clothes,
yet the pain is resistant,
When the sun rises up,
We hope for the best,
but our ears hear the worst,
Who can stand up,
and say I’m ready for my death?
Who can say I have healed,
from the death of the loved one?
the questions remain rhetorical,
and death remains an undefeated monster,