Offerings for the dead

Offerings for the dead

A bouquet of flowers, long withered.

Yellow-tinged petals, a drooping stem.

It lies lifeless like the tomb beneath

which memories have crumbled away.

A lone doll, broken like porcelain,

Dangling limbs, a greyish pallor.

Damp cotton spills out of its torso

To tell a story for its master.

A bottle of wine, still crimson red.

Brown, curtained glass, a delicate design.

The closure remains sealed, unopened

For there is none to celebrate with.

A framed card, wax-covered envelope.

Half torn paper, the ink smudged and blurred.

The saint sitting silently on top

Betrays the sins they once committed. 

I stand selfishly with no tears to 

Shed for you who left me alone here.

With nothing to offer but my love,

Sweet love to leave nothing in ruins.

To those despised, to the abandoned,

To those unloved, to the forgotten,

Even when every trace of you is

Lost, I shall weep for you, solely you.