BLACK MIST
Standing on the hard ground,
knowing you are 6 feet below
makes me feel like a betrayer;
I have betrayed you by living.
I know we said till death do us part
but I shouldn’t have made that pact.
I should have insisted to go with you
whenever death came for you.
The wind has suddenly
started to blow louder,
screaming in my ears.
All I hear is the silent cry of the breeze,
all I can feel is the little pat
on my shoulder
from sympathizers
who can’t feel my pain.
The crowd in black
have started to blur
into a muddle of black mist,
leaving me standing
6 feet above you;
alone in the black mist.
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