Skinny scaffolding piercing the uniform night

Pale grey having littered itself across the horizon

Never in my wildest dreams

Could the end be this calm

That my stronghold’s final journey would be so tranquil and pure

Unfazed by the circumstances that shroud her vessel


Lift the weight off your heavy chest

Nurse the light; a little, then all at once

Find your medium

For you’ve given more than your all

And as much as I wish

That the finite be endless

All I ask

Is that peace enflower your being

For now, forever

Rest, angel.



I wrote bits and pieces of this poem while I was sitting by my darling grandmother’s hospital bed, at 2:30 am. She passed on the day after, very peacefully. This was what my last night with her felt like – it was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced,  yet there was a strange calm to it that I simply cannot explain. I sit here two months later, having finally completed this poem, tears glistening my eyes, Simon and Garfunkel playing in my room, and I’m very, very, broken. I miss you like hell, and the agony I feel when I realise I can’t have you back is absolutely killing me.


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