Death of a Shaman

my grandmother in a trance
incessant chants of unknown tongue
she saw beyond the veil
of this reality and theirs

petite almost frail
beauty of then a shadow
only seen in her aged eyes
lending her a lost look

she used to cry in her sleep
whispering fire fire
I wondered if she did
ever burn within

hating my father
him hating her
snarls instead of chats
he died first

I saw her cry herself to sleep
she saw through the veil
knew his cruelty
knew his consuming hatred

she died after a month
of death chanting on the bed
leaving her alone
her demons flew

with her last breath.