Mourning

Demons play tricks on unwitting souls,
Weaving lies in the fabric of hope,
Donning quilts of sorrow laid upon napping bodies,
In dreaming of death and ones we have lost,
Truly what solice is lay within, fretting remorse and guilt,
Harsh words spoken, kind words lost,
Oh what it is to be human and in mourning,
For no pain is of greater measure.