Requiem Poem by NurViktoria Ellen

REQUIEM
She died on Sunday while
the Sun was eclipsed in Northern China and I
was contemplating suicide
yet again.
What a time to go, says Jane, now
that Spring is all around
all through this dreary winter she was holding out
in vain.
What a time to go, they say, she leaves
three young children, will they be
together, will the deal with their grief
on their own?
What a way to go, we hear
how she was battling for a year
searching, hoping, trying everything in her despair,
we can only guess the fear
all alone.
What an age to die, forty only,
full of songs and dance and youth and beauty,
and longing
to be loved.
What an Age to go when help
is the advice to love yourself:
will anybody else
when you’re down?