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My tears drip softly over the canvas painting

my sorrow spills freely onto the velvet floor.

The paints run together, blurring the picture;

I no longer see the lines or what they were drawn for.

I'd paint my soul to be with you

And colour it with shades of gray.

Accustomed to your honest truth,

I'd let the rainbow colours fall away

-Like visions of the past-

Silhouettes of dark and light dancing in my mind.

Heavy clouds cover me whole, pull down from the skies, and consume my soul.

Framed about my sea of salt that’s flowing from my eyes

everything's so dark, and still, since you coloured it so bright.

Clouded from my distant thoughts, it begins to pour out blind.

Until contemplation's grim fill the shadows of the night.

I see an angel crying, for another angel’s plight.

Another little one has left us, spread fine wings for flying,

and drifted from our sight.

Her eyes, bright, innocent and carefree, guiltless, so perfect in their entirety.

Smile; pure, sweet, untarnished, certainly, it was cherished.

Beautiful as a lily floating on a crystal clear waters glow.

But life, taken away so suddenly, cut short, its such a tragedy.

Why must things be so?

“Wake up, dear one, wake up”.

She cries, again and again.

They do not, will not, rise, still she calls their name, in vain.

I cannot feel what she feels; I only taste a portion, a mere

shadow of her pain.

I turn away, I cannot bear to watch; cannot stay.

It is indeed a gruesome scene, in all truth; it seems obscene,

that a child so young should deserve to die.

And my tears drip softly over the canvas painting.

And my sorrow spills freely onto the velvet floor.

And the paints run together, blurring the picture

of what, will be, no more...