For My Mother; a sonnet of innocence
|Badly beaten, mangled face.
How could I return to this place.
So much rage and anger herein lies.
Much like her body swarming with flies.
World hunger and natural disasters could not compare.
For this woman died with a lot of love left to share.
My mother, may she rest in peace.
Dying at the hands of man who would not cease.
Strangling her last breath out of her
My internal cries exhaulted,"Muderer!"
As I stand at her grave, filled with grief.
Knowing he took her like a thief in the night.
These words are now printed on her epitaph
On final breath passed, "Love Never Lasts."