Purple Lady Poetry

The late. Asleep. At peace.
These words that describe a state of not being.
Passed away, crossed over.
Departed this world. Unseeing.

So stark, so obtuse, so not.
Not you, not there, not here.
Black on white, no light.
Sounds so dark, so clear.

Departed dearly and lost.
Through the veil, deceased.
Condolences, in sympathy.
Regrets and now released.

Those words seeking to contain,
Soothing sore and raw emotion.
Instead are carrying sharp barbs
Of which you have no notion.