Unwelcomed Loss

Perching down the rocky roots of cedar overlooking the sea,

The remnants of my past,

That shredded the ease intertwined our hands and sat along with me,

For life in a glass bowl would've been an opportune.

I brood 'bout the loss,

The branch would've felt,

Where the wind was held for its theft,

Where the rain was there as the harbinger.

I saw kings and queens of the past,

Who reminded the labyrinth of my chest,

Then I acknowledged the retreat of the ripple formed,

For loss was always unwelcomed.

Hearing the enchanting chants of the birds I woke up,

Appreciating the retreat of downpour,

With farewell to the birdlings,

For loss was always unwelcomed.

If the morrows were always foreseen,

If the loss was treated as love being craved,

If their eyes weren't always this compelling,

For loss was always unwelcomed.

If the wars were treated with love,

If the narrow minds were widened,

If the blood that covered my hands were applauded as resplendent,

Would the pain accompanied cure the bleeding heart?

I stood up to embrace the loss,

The halcyon the ancestors talked about,

The breathless days I encountered,

Loss should always be welcomed.