Death Hurts Most

Death hurts most those who are left behind.

They stumblingly walk in its dark shadows;

Blindly, the mourners grope in deep, shadowed trails of grief.

Those surviving find

Smothering dark clouds bleaken their lives.

They huddle lonely within their empty beds …

Long lingers their barren desolation,

Blocking the much-needed consolation

From their silently-screaming souls.

For years … so many endless years … remains

That harsh cruelty of Night.

But after floods of uncomforted tears,

Flashes a glimpse …

Bright light flares at tunnel's nearing end …

Brief … Oh! So brief …

Yet, Hope arises! Whispers, "That light WILL return.

… Longer stay. Healing is on the way."

So Hope consoles. Life reaffirms.

That terrible despair eases, finally flees.

Again, one feels God's sheltering love.

And walks again in paths of quiet peace.

The Web Projects of Sondra Ball and Mario Cavallini