The air hangs limp, brutal and cold
An unforgiving melancholy sucks deeply like a dementor's kiss
A dark cloud bursts every now and then
Pouring down viscously, filling ridges, crevices and craters;
Voids weeping sorrowful tales 
Of deep seated memories, beautiful but incomplete

Stories of mirth, maternal and divine
Somewhere, a guardian sighs
Somewhere, a mother dies

In her heart he's just a child
In her eyes an infant so bright 
With curled paws and a twinkling glare
What was not to love in there!

Where there was love, stood vehemence 
Resentment for the loss that took place 
For the house reeking of desolate emptiness
For the mindless babble masking pleas of his presence

Time reels backwards in our minds
that dwell upon sweet longings
A hint of the tail, here and there
The pitter patter of silent paws

Bowl, string, paper ball;
scraps scooped stealthily 
show flashes of his life, his soul dispersed in ethereal space
Floating freely, mingling with pain-
a needle pin rips the air so cold
The kiss is over and happiness gone.

Somewhere, a womb unperturbed feels the loss.

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