The Ones Left Behind

There’s a slow burning river of
sadness rolling through my heart.
There are no fish, no urchins, not a
living thing in its waters but the pain of
the ones left alive
.
There are no trees along these
blasted river banks, no birds fly
its fiery air, no creatures come to
drink its scalding waters but
the ones left alive.

Bubbling whirlpools swirl inside my eyes,
powdery grit fills up my nostrils, sticks
to my lungs, makes me move with
the slowest motions and I don’t
know if I’m alive.

Black river of tears flowing through
my veins, roaring in my ears,
making me insane. There are
no words, no reason, nothing to
say to ease the hurt for
the ones left alive

Too horrendous to conceive,
too ghastly to relive, too
monstrous to believe for
the ones left alive.

Copyright 9/11/01--2013 Dennis John Ferado