Silent Grief, Silent Hope

Over a shallow grave of blood and flesh
a mere fistful of tears are flung.
Brief life with questionable purpose;
unseen, unheard, unsung.

Untold life will soon be forgotten-
Tiny flicker of hope it once held
of unseen tears, unheard laughter,
and unsung lullabies before bed.

So life goes on behind a false facade,
but the faintest grief still lingers.
And with it remains the tiny flicker of hope
still yearning to count tiny fingers.