A Morgue Experience

A Morgue Experience
There is a most primitive wailing sound -
a stricken keening of utter despair - 

a mother's awful symphony

of savage tongue,

throbbing throat,

and ruined heart.

Identity must be determined.

A son? Handsome youth cut down?

A daughter? Blooming beauty snuffed?

Father, steeped in rage, refuses to go,
preferring to drink himself numb,
and lay blame
at a careless God's doorstep.

There lurks a hidden cavity,
a storage packet of sudden death,
murky beneath 
dark, wet streets.

An officer of Laws for the Living

escorts Mother down a dim hallway
to a large viewing window where a
teenage boy lies in state
under bright lights and

hideous shroud of white sheet.

The blanched face revealed - 

Sightless eyes cannot see Mother;
Stopped arms cannot hug Mother;
Silent voice cannot greet Mother;
Sealed lips cannot kiss Mother farewell.

Comes the keening.
Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

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