Why

Why—

a gasp, a chortle, a thump,

Why—

a whizz, a scream, a river of tear.

Abandon.

Nonchalance.

And fear.

Fear, palpitation—

then anger, near.

Why opportunism—

a combination task of evil?

Why elevation,

and elation fall

into a bottomless pit?

Heaven on earth— Haminasto,

Maybe, someday.

But today,

the dogs howl themselves dry.

Disgruntled—a many, and many more.

Vengeful, on moral highways

of the motherland they swore.

Another slap of spume—

the sea rock, battered.

Why?

Crevices appear—

destroying flowering branches.

Why?

Return, dark—

rumbling clouds deported eons ago.

Why?

Wishful—fleeting—

like morning dew: hope.

Why?

Now, here they lie—

hands still warm,

eyes wide with the unfinished.

Their stories,

ripped from the air

like pages

from a wind-struck prayer book.

Elegy, Again.

Why ?

Yet still—

stands, marked,

strong—but: sea rock.

A dead branch, maybe—

but roots?

Foundational.

Intact.