I walk through the wet, the rain plastering hair to my skull,
as I shed memories to sweep away this dark day's dull.
Memories as I played games, observing the grinning face of my little boy,
Shadows sweeping happiness away, dark hands shredding joy.
I walk through the wet, though I still remain dry,
as I think to a sunnier place, and say my goodbyes
to the people I once loved, as now I walk as a ghost,
devoid of the moments that I still miss the most.
I walk through the wet, yet dry in my hand is a picture frame.
As my families souls were reaped, as death lays his dark claim.
I remember the arson's devils work and the life-taking fire,
sending flying souls above to add to His Heavenly choir.
I walk through the wet, reminiscencing momentous moments,
like Kodak commercial pictures, with saddening components.
All of it's forever gone, and by the hands of a single man,
of the simplistic souls that can still sweep joy from this desolate land.
I walk through the wet, mostly dry like I'm crossing through time warps,
as my eyes recall these happy days through the lifeless eyes of a moving corpse.
The burnt-out remains of a house awaits me down the quiet road,
beckoning me to the ash, packed with old memories that my mind also knows.
I walk through the wet, thoughts flitting through my crowded mind,
of smiling children playing and my wife's lovely grin, painfully kind.
I may be six feet under, but I still walk on two feet in this sad place,
where I'm bound to the restless results where my life was lived, along with that laughing face.
____________________________
Her eyes glazed to the ways earth portrays it's occupants...
The days spent in evaporating blood causing a haze, frozen in the shock of it.
She remained still, seeking to fulfill the will of her dying parents screams.
Memories singed with shrill shrieks as blood spilled crimson upon sheets...
Soft-spoken prayers issued as tears begun as a stop came to heart beats...
To descend stairs as fear sieged her with poison-tipped spears under the sun...
To run away as guns continuously blazed, the tightly tied lace of life undone.
Motionless on an armchair in despair, waiting for her heart to repair under tragedy.
Every moment a game of sacred solitaire to declare strange stragedy...
She waited until satiated to raise, enemies hated, revenge sworn.
Sedated with the rage she created, wondering if her sanity was reinstated as she no longer mourned.
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