Roses and violets for memories,
Hung by the photo so fair,
Wave between wind bursts and shadows,
Tangle the lingering hair.
A moment of crash and of silence,
The song of the last ever breath,
Some poem of missing relation,
And spirit releasing of Beth.
Wheels screech to stop for the heartbeat,
Boom, and another boom, gone.
Silence, for screaming, for helpless,
And soon come the father and son.
A cymbal of lightning exploded,
The drum of the metal collides,
A tear hits the ground of the outline,
And the silence, in husband, confides.
The hopelessness echoes the doorway,
Her keys gather dust on the stairs,
The chair is left vacant and empty,
In the hope that she may return there.
Her son grows frustrated and angry,
He looms over thought, over mind,
His future predicting his sorrow,
His mother, impossible to find.
He marries, she misses the wedding,
Her ghost attends, chilling the mood,
A bride, scarlet cheeks glowing, smiles,
The photo, click, taken so crude.
His father, by photo, seems sturdy,
He strikes the anonymous pose,
The tear in his eye still remaining,
His house, now his own door to close.
He watches her chair with a glimmer,
A hope, a remembrance, a fear,
The cushions so soft, so collapsed,
That reminder, she used to sit here.
A photo rests over the headrest,
Her last smile caught by a flash,
A solemn and silent gesture,
The day before heartbeat and crash.