I walk down the solemn lane.
Trees dance and bend in my wake.
My life before and now is not the same.
Crowds gather just for my sake.
Black blurs is all I see
As I trod down the isle.
One face burned in my memory
As I face the hardest trial.
Flowers and gifts crowd me.
It's not right, I think.
But what would she want me to be?
Oh, mom. You are my armour's kink.
My loved, my only, is now a pile of dirt.
People talk, some bow.
This is not a concert!
I blink away tears, and try to survive for now.
