Passing Souls

the silence is a heavy one,

that presses down on our throats,

reducing our voices to mumurs,

as though the slightest sound,

can wake up the dead lying on the bed.

here I sit in a corner right outside the door,

shielded by the dark but the tears run dry no more,

and I look at all those faces standing around —

pray you tell me: when do people know when to move on?

life’s too short I must say,

one minute they’re there and,

the next not.

as the night dies and the dawn wakes,

I wonder how many more have left this earth.

like passing souls within a waiting line;

from one life to the next one gone

– a.h.


I’m writing this in loving memory of my Grandma. And I’m comforted by the fact that tonight, the night sky has gained another star. 

” Life’s too short, one minute they can be there and the next not. ” – 19.06.2016 

Rest in peace. 


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