Good Grief

She visits a grave of previous pains.
Hiding while crying at times that have changed.
 
Face in her hands, scarf soaking tears,
whispering chants learnt over the years.
If they will work she'll just have to see.
What it unlocks depends on the key.
 
Loss overwhelms her, it's out of control.
The harder she weeps the faster it grows.
Pleading to live on without the visions
of torturous thoughts that burn from within.
 
Clawing and tearing the soil at hand,
sick sounding screams we can't understand.
 Run to a walk, stumble then fall.
Feet turn to knees as she struggles to crawl.
 
The spiral is endless, love is a chore.
Now strife she's grown used to makes death seem a bore.