The Second

Another had gone,

Two were lost,

Three still there,

stuck in that moment.

Now I walk in,

What receives me,

Not a boy by the sink,

Not a brother in his room,

Not a mother who sits at the desktop,

But grief.

It's my sorrow.

Not for the dead,

but for the living,

who had foresaken their lives

and handed it to the apparitions,

the remnants of those who were either down in Hell or up in Heaven.

The greetings,

Two were gone,

But three still here.

Yet I feel,

As if I'm all alone.