Two Weeks After Your Death

by Kakera   Jul 18, 2015


Blessed with an ethereal beauty
that could never last,
we blew up like fireworks
beckoning a new dawn ashore;
drinking from the fountain of youth,
unaware that the Serpent
poisoned everything that's clean.

I exhale nuclear winters,
trying to annihilate
the prison of grief
that surrounds my heart;

I like the saying that
"hope is the last thing
that dies in man"
because it explains
flawlessly
why there is nothing left
but emptiness beating
in my chest.

I wish that I could create miracles
as easily as I create poems;
that I could spread magic
in the heart of everything mundane,
and reach past the stars
to where the angels sing
songs of our despair,
commending our irrational faith:

Because when there's nothing remaining
but the ruins left in the wake of mourning,
all we could ever hope to be
is something less incomplete,
some day, in a place far away
from this graveyard world.

I wish I could believe
that you, my best friend,
are now standing in front of God
in a place where darkness
can never consume you again;

But it's only been two weeks since your death,
and I don't know if I could kill my despair
with something as fragile as Faith,

and I grieve in a suffocating silence,
wishing for the pain of being left behind
as you entered your eternal sleep
to become less unbearable,
and for the loneliness
to stop echoing
in the dark corners
of my broken soul.

Dedicated to the best friend one could ever have had:
Simon Parvizinia Hansson
1991-12-06 - 2015-07-04

May you rest in peace, brother...
I love you, and I miss you.

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Latest Comments

  • 8 years ago

    by Jenni Marie

    Judging comment:

    Kakera paints such vivid loss and mourning in this piece all the while managing to create something elegant and pretty from something so tragic and heartbreaking. I always enjoy the use of the serpent in poems and this was no exception here. Sometimes life hands us such a raw deal and it feels like there is nothing but pain.

    The mention of there being no hope left and suffocating in silence enforces that sometimes we're given more pain to deal with than we can bare. "that I could spread magic in the heart of everything mundane, and reach past the stars to where the angels sing" Easily my favourite lines of the poem; as it generates such delicate and bittersweet imagery in so few words.

    I lost someone very close to me last year and whilst I can't say the pain stops, I can tell you that it does begin to get easier with time. Remember your friend and stay strong.

  • 9 years ago

    by Kakera

    Three weeks now. It doesn't get any easier. No, that's the wrong word. It's not getting less difficult. Not yet anyway. I hate this world so much sometimes...

  • 9 years ago

    by -Choke-On-MY-Halo-

    Honey, I know this is extremely painful to you to have written this, since it shows to the core of anyone with a soul that you deeply loved your friend, and even after death he still is in your mind and prayers.

    You mentioned God and I believe he is there waiting patiently for you to come meet him in time honey, you don't have to rush to meet him again, like you I have people in heaven that I know are waiting for me to come to heaven or hell whichever is deemed of my soul is yet to be determined.

    Sweetie you break my heart reading this because I can relate to a friend taking their lives before their time was supposed to be gone. I know it burns and it doesn't go away that pain but it will get better with time but it will get better.

    Beautiful to the end even which it was sad to the end

    - Moria Bella Bair

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