The Martyr’s Wife

Hand in hand, they had walked on by,
But today they bid a final good bye,
Here on this cold and dreary morning,
The weather joins them in mourning.

In her hand, she holds a single rose,
Family and friends fill in the rows,
Who can’t help but continue to stare,
As they carry his coffin down the stair.

A young life snuffed, her companion sole,
A stray bullet took the soldier’s soul,
If only there was another way,
Grief clutches, makes her heart weigh.

God, it is such a difficult lesson,
To endure pain, hoping it will lessen,
But eyes bleed as we stand on our heel,
Praying for closure, for our hearts to heal.
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Sheetal Ashpalia

With a teenage son and a full time job, writing is what Sheetal enjoys in her spare time apart from singing and reading. She firmly believes that “Something beautiful is about to happen”.

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