What manner of speaking is this?
The words are lost mid thought
Their importance tainted
Leaving brains elated.

What manner of breathing is this?
Chests heaving to no event
Endlessly seeking bitter sweet air
With pain searing, too hard to bear.

What manner of thinking is this?
Pictures of youth brings tears
Burning the cheeks of a ravaged face
The loss of clear memories to taste.

What manner of grieving is this?
A hole so deep and dark
Feels it will never be filled
Joy so far cannot be willed.

What manner of dying is this?
Already your senses are dulled
Already the pain has been bled
And those words left silent and unsaid.