I came with your mother
On that third morning. . .
And like your mother and the others
I saw the stone was moved. . .
I was terrified!
Those bastards had
Taken your body. . .your enemies wanted you
. . . disappeared
. . . forgotten
. . . erased.
And that very night I started to learn my letters
That very night I worked to recall our time
That very night I committed
to tell your story,
to tell how you live. . . .
[Note: Please feel free to comment on my pieces here. I appreciate anything you have to offer--good or bad--which can help me as a writer.]