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At the Death of a Friend

How can one so animated with life
be stilled?
Where do the desires of a young woman go when
they lose home?
What pleasures are bequeathed by lips when
emptied and cold?
Where does the poetry go when a voice
is silenced?
Written by Nizana (Lauryn)
Published
Author's Note
A friend of our family died recently. She was the same age as my daughter. I watched her grow into a beautiful woman who wrote poetry and songs. She loved deeply and without hesitation.

After witnessing her passing, I wrote these thoughts.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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