Only Mortals Die Poem by Priyanka Dey

She opens her eyes
fearful t e a r s drain her cheeks
the b r e e z e dries them h
a
l
f
way d
o
w
n
morose pathos, now at a turbulent d i s t r e s s.

The sky reveres her in q u i e t surrender
her wrinkled e
y
e
s
still search him
He will return, she tells me
As I keep staring at the misty r a i n-stained window.

He is d
e
a
d
I begin to t
h
i
n
k
And suddenly, a butterfly sits g
e
n
t
l
y
on my arm


A s m i l e rests on my l i p s
He is
h
e
r
e
like the first d
e
w
in the morning


the r w after the r n
a i n b o a i

Like the h
e
a
r
t
b
e
a
t
s
of his mother

the w a r m t h in her h u g so t i g h t

He is here,
his mother was r i g h t

Only m
o
r
t
a
l
s
d i e.