Blood stained glass shattered at his feet
His mother’s cries heard from a distance,
He ventures into the unknown.
The known yet unknown.
Her cries become hard to hear
His mind begins to wander.
He looks over his shoulder,
He sees his past;
The past he thought would be his future.
Her cries become harder to hear,
The walls are closing in on him.
He wondered why he’d leave so early
He guessed it is meant to be.
Why do people die so young?
It’s like asking :
Why do the prettiest flowers get picked first?
They’re the most precious.