The Stone Institute

Death Called

Night is Quiet for the Last Time.
The Phone Call came Late
In the Unsuspecting Darkness of Slumber.
An Unfamiliar voice Uttered Devastation.
Your Child Died Tonight. I’m Sorry.
Perhaps a Terrible Dream, a Nightmare.
Terror sends Shock Waves through Flesh and Bones.
How? does not Matter.
Why? does not Matter.
When? does not Matter.
Only What Matters.
Death Called.
A Hammer Blow to the Soul.
Shards of Glass deeply Lacerates the Spirit.
Demons of Guilt seed Doubt.
What Happens Next?
 
Night is Silent for the Last Time.
Sleep leaves.
Gusts of Agony drives Sanity away.
Reflections become Irrational.
The Sounds of Wreckage Echoes Loudly in the Dread of Silence.
Your Child Died Tonight. I’m Sorry.
Look in the Mirror.
Life will Never be Life again,
One Day at a Time.
 
Kevin S. “Kiki” Merigian © February 2019
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