There she lies, upon the floor

Tears embroidered on her face.

Her body still; her white dress ripped

Trims of blood on trims of lace.

Contusion coats her pallid skin

Her light blue eyes forever closed.

Dust dances in the lukewarm light

In which her body was disposed.

I’m in the corner, on the floor

Within the attic where she lies..

My arm extended towards her Corpse.

A look of longing in my eyes.

Somewhere a booming voice erupts.

“YOU’LL BE OKAY,” is what it’s said.

Maybe that’s true, and I’ll be fine

But don’t you see? The childs dead.