DEATH

in writing •  6 years ago 

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Dear God and creator I am upset with you

Today I watch the wretched hands of death steal the bloom of joy from a mother's arms.
I saw a bleeding woman from her soul drown in unquenchable pain created by the oceans of her tears

Her legs quenched with grief
Her piercing screams scattered my heart as I poured
She just wanted to break free from an uninvited reality

Her son had become one with the earth,shredding his skin to the soils of time but for her it wasn't such a glorious thing
A parcel of joy has been pulled from her inside soul leaving an empty vacuum

She wailed in unseen anguish clutching her soul. I keep watching as she rose up telling the dead lying child call his name "Wake up, get up from there I will flog you! Stop this play with mum please or am I dreaming "

She drags him up but he collapse to the ground without life. She pulls the body and clings him to her numb heart with millions of fat steaming tears breaking in force on her cheeks

Bitterness poured from the edges of pain that slit my skin as tears creep into my face.

She said nothing happened to him, he just started to cough and next thing he was stretching, struggling for breathe and he was gone

My heart is heavy and mind filled with anger, confusion and shock in a mixture of bitterness

I wonder how the windows of joy will give a complete view to this mother as it once showed her, for the sun will be nothing but darkness to her and the moon her pillow to cry.
I am forlorn at heart in the depths of my soul puzzled why God could allow such a young soul be snatched by the claws of death

We showered the heavens with praises
Painted the rainbows with claps
Sharpened the stars with our piercing voices into the night
Wailed at the moon with the drive of agony

But you still didn't reply or come down, it was like you were too busy attending to other cries and deaf to ours or maybe you blindly watched?

Does it mean your glory isn't wide enough to cover your children or your canopy of mercy leaks with sluggishness?

Or do you not recognize us as your children in the legacy of your heritage?

Does this mean in the storms of life and bridges of uncertainty my fears will drown me even when I call on you?

At some point she sealed her lips with laughter in an attempt to conceal her grief. But she breaks through with piercing wailing.

I have never seen raw pain feast on a person's soul unchecked with satisfaction from an underserved meal.

She held the body rocking him into her bowls of misery and frozen breath eyes interlocked she begged for help .I fumbled to the ground in tears

I have come with an open mind mirrored with questions
Sometimes in the walk and trudge of life we are faced with huddles challenging our faith, displacing our hope. We get obliterated through the shadows of our doubt and are prone in asking rhetorical question which the creator answers and sometimes listens and stay mute.

These are cue to my questions
©daldon

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