Red Blood Series – #1

I wrote this when a loved senior died. It was some crazy drunk mishap. Unbelievably meaningless.


i hope
that death was swift
i hope
that the pain was brief
but i know
that the blood was red
and i know
that the fall was steep.

did the earth rush up
catch you in a crushing embrace?
or did the worlds turn upside down
in wonder, and watch
as you swam through the air,
and glided up as if in heavenʼs grace.
or was there a last minute screaming call
as the cold air slapped you awake?

did you know?
did you know of the coming blow?
were you twisting, turning, fleeting, falling?
did you know when death came calling?

were you asleep?
did you fall?
was it even a fall at all?
did you weep?
at all the promises you will not keep?

they could not stop the clocks

bracketed between pain and grief
early to arrive, early to leave,
and from every death we glean
that ‘all of life is but then
a dream within a dream.’

and stolen words and swollen eyes
trails of flowers, some talk of fire and ice,
while between, betwixt the wails we dream.
and ‘all of life is but then
a dream within a dream.’

  • Shruti
Shruti does not have a last name but will respond to ‘Pyare’. Social impact investor by day and night. Poet in the hours in between.
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