Joshua Sutherland Allen

Joshua Sutherland Allen

Monday, September 1, 2014


Walking wreckage, dark, dour, restive, wasting,
Treads upon earth, deaf and blind to the hope
Of new mornings: never seeing, tasting,
Touching goodness; trying only to cope
With unbearable hopelessness and pain.
No salvagers can rescue him, no soap
Can clean the grime that clouds his soul and brain.
His grief has made him into something dead.
His once verdant life bereft of the rain
Of human friendship, starving for the bread
Of human kindness.  The world comprehends
His loss, but it can’t understand the dread
Of what comes next, after the sadness ends,
And memory fades, on which love depends.

1 comment:

  1. When in the middle of grief, oftentimes it is very difficult to see what life will bring on the other side.....and sometimes it IS frightening to think about.