Roy Boy
This is something I wrote through six word stories about my uncle that committed suicide a few years ago.
Soon enough, time forsaken, not enough.
Leveled to shoulders, his trigger pulled.
Lost in this fog; now, forever.
"Love, redemption, oh my aching heart."
Lost to wind, found in dirt.
A mighty throne, caked with soot.
His passing silhouette, holding his chest.
Tears of love, tears of hate.
Redemption is lost, such as wind.
Ripped from our hearts, not, minds.
Such is the way of life.
Misery we must endure, now, forever.
A life too disturbing, sometimes surreal.
Maybe, one day, we will find you.