In the end, it’s red we bleed.
Tears we cry, and songs left unsung.
We weep not for the lives saved, but those lost.
We reach our hands up into the air,
as if to catch the fleeting moments left undone,
the words yet to be uttered,
and jokes yet to be shared.
We recall the last words,
words we would like to change.
Instead of ‘good-bye’, ‘stay.’
“Come back, don’t go!”
“No!” You’ll only meet your end.
The page is not yet finished,
the story still mostly blank.
And yet, there you fade,
letting of my hand.
Walking further and further behind.
And all we can see is the stone with your name.
So we weep our tears and cry our words.
We walk further and further into the places you once were.
Because we will meet again, whether in this life or another.