Grief in Both Hands

Grief In Both Hands

Hands which held onto huge palms,

As they came into the world of chaos,

Was seemingly cut from the ties to the womb of pain.

Conceived in hope for a blissful future,

To be retched with the knife of sorrow,

In a death full of bodies.

It was not meant to be.

It was wished to be a distant tale,

But it came home in a senseless cloud.

How I wish the children were unborn.

But now they are here, they must bear

The tales of broken dreams and crushed hearts .

Life is never predictable.

But in it, there is a solace,

That the world could be peaceful.

Albeit, it seems a tale by moonlight

To the ears of the sorrowful child.

Who could bear?