There's nothing that quite describes sorrow.
It's an ache or a throb or an absence or a chill.
It's anger and sadness and pain
wrapped up so tightly within you
that when it spills out of you
it is a relief that lifts you to your feet.
It is a song that comes somewhere
between your heart and your soul
that echoes down through the marrow of your bones
and into the threads of your cells
drifting aimlessly through space and time.
A hymn to the fallen and the lost and the left behind
- but not forgotten never forgotten -
sorrow has no words or melody
but everyone sings along.
A cause to rally behind when wills are breaking
and lives are crumbling to ashes.
Where there is nothing but memories
and the ghosts of memories
it is a cry that builds in your heart
and releases through your lips and eyes and hands
and you shake your fists and pound your chest
or otherwise you sit quietly
while your whole world comes apart around you.
Sorrow rises like an anthem
and it falls like a prayer
and it sings its way through your soul
humming and plucking at heartstrings
and drumming on lungs
until you are nothing but notes on paper
your grief strung out before you
as thick strands of an anthem
rising towards the heavens
now far beyond your reach.
:) Kathryn
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