Is it real?

Schlepping along the cusps of slumber
Dreaming, or wishing it was a dreadful dream
Tinkering with mysteries mortals never decipher
Begging to be awoken, losing grip of reality

The duskiness, suddenness
The gloominess, sullenness
Consuming, unpromising, uncompromising
Flattened by jaws of a morbid uprising
Consolidating inconsolable condolences
Despondent to a loss of uplifting senses

Is it real?

But grief is chief
As well a thief
As joy and cheer was its to steal
And never was it to yield or repeal

Is it real?

The late call
The sad news
The dank, diabolical, decadence of death
The surreal visit
To sons robbed of a doting mother
To a husband, of a loving wife
To family, of a virtuous woman
To friends, of a true companion
I see them all, holding strong
Dancing along to the dirge of fortitude
Bereavement serenading their reluctant multitude

Alas, it registers
A condolence register
Bowing before the portrait of its blessed matriarch
Gulping tributes, only too early and mournfully
Her wisdom, love and benign goodness
Gone too soon
Gone for good
Gone to God

It is surreal
Too hard to take in
But this is where I awaken
Where I realize I never was in slumber
Where I get answered of my poignant query

Is it real?

Indeed, alas
The deed is done
Deep and gone
The bane of life
To RIP

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