a gilded case and ornate vase,
proper attire upon a funeral pyre,
Orchestrated steps they haven't slept.
Death is primal and surreal.
It is discord in place of harmony
and shattered glass beneath your feet.
All beauty in it is simply an ornate shell
to mask a macabre truth.
The loss of a loved one is both permanent and impermanent;
they no longer walk in our waking world,
but they still tread heavily on our hearts.
but they still tread heavily on our hearts.