On Mourning

I wipe the tears that come without consent
I do not bother halting their descent
Without invitation, this grief makes it’s ascent
Rises to my throat and makes itself a tent

This sorrow is of pitiful intent
Of separation and loss i am forced to lament
Only he who has lost, knows this torment
Shackled and bound, i am under arrest

There is only sadness in my heart
In death’s ugliness today i am caught
Rising and falling, i clutch at my chest
Oh this pain, i can only resent.