The Dead
Blue flowers sparkle on a lonely night,
Lit by moonlight.
The reflections of spirits
Long departed to their new home, waiting for rebirth.
They look down on us,
Pulsating.
The water droplets
That fall from the sky are their tears;
They shimmer as they
Suicidally throw themselves
From the heavens.
Their laughter comes as hot, yellow beams
That warm us and remind us of them.
Their anger comes down in frozen form,
Frozen tears, reminding us of them.
When we dare to forget,
Their frustration forms flakes of ice shavings,
None one the same as another.
But when they send their love,
It is in that warm breeze
You feel blow across your back when you're feeling sad, or
That shiver that crawls up your spine
When something delights you.
We are forever reminded of them.