Albert

Like the hands of a clock,

Stuck in time,

Is the birth of an unloved

          Child.

A petal pushes through, “a girl.”

Hope, her murmur, for happiness and

          Joy.

The cradle song, a grotesque

          Cacophony.

Born at home, sent forth by him, isn’t this where love begins?

An angel without wings, cuddled but not fully

          Loved.

Between the before and the now he started loving Jesus, not her.

          Shunned.

The flower grows.

A child in a crowd, eyes wide, ripped from the hand meant to guide.

Love

          Mislaid.

His pain festers, convulsing the depths of his

          Soul.

Tendrils of wretchedness suffocate the

          Heart.

Grotesque, annihilation too violent to bear.

A cadaver, mostly dead, tormented, blind,

          Unfeeling.

The children,

          Maimed.

Unimaginable.

Understandable.

Hold my hand?

          Repulsed.

A kiss too much to ask?

          Repugnant.

Her grimace screams, am I pretty?

          Silence.

          Shrieks.

The vessel for tea, shattered beyond repair.

Please, I’m

          Sorry.

Starving for love, insecure, she finds a man to provide.

          Detested.

Flying away.

          Elope.

Torrents of bombs, carnage complete, he returns.

A plethora of years together.

Sixty-eight, if you count.

As she feared, he passes first, mind

          Destroyed.

Toxic change, no memories remain.

A number, the only word at hand, before passing to the other side.

It was four, no, that’s not it, maybe it was

          Five.

Left alone, her mind grows dim, timorous all the time.

Her longing for love, never died.

The one she could not please.

Life ends, “We regret to inform you.”

Hers in confusion, anxiety,

          Pain.

Everything is better now.

          Serene,

since Jesus took her home.

          Finally,

Albert, she is

          Loved.

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