When you leave the grave,
You realize things will never be the same,
now bearing with the absence of safety you used to enjoy,
after every raging gust of the hurricane,
to teach how to stand again.
It’s heavy what you now carry,
so you leave it at bay,
hoping the wind will soon drift it away,
but it followed you all the way.
As in a dark cloud shading your shadow,
it will never leave you alone.
Then you knew all along that this does not expire,
wrongful to say that moving on is what you require,
for they never cease to be a mother, father, brother or sister.
Now you look all around and notice time is leaving,
after telling you a piece of its mind:
Life is the same after all,
For suffering and death is part of living,
And the world will still be wretched as it was,
So you turn the other cheek to see a different light,
And decide that your love for the one above the skies,
Shall be the resource to build your best inside.