Storms Of Interior Darkness Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Rocking the cradle of bereavement in time with rhythms of
even tempos.

Taking babies into arms and cuddling with them on lonely
nights left behind by loved ones who have entered the
depths of death's caverns beyond life here on earth.

Left in tears of oceans, their tides crashing over them in
waves of frustration and anger, because the ones they loved
have been taken to horizons beyond them.

They cannot be reached again here on earth, leaving them
empty, lonely and abandoned to fend for themselves on desert
plains, living in perfect storms of interior darkness.