A picture of Michale Angelo's Pieta

Hopeful hopelessness
Sadness caught in marble.
He’s gone
But he’s here
In my arms one last time.

Let me look
At his beautiful face.
His perfect form
I gave birth to.
Gentle life-giving hands
Legs that walked for all of us.
Where are you my son?
How can this pain
This dreadful act
Ever be put right.
How do I keep this in my
When You are the only one that
Could Fill it.
My love,
My son
My life.
Stay with me a little
While longer.
Keep the sun from setting.
Stop the chill from
Stealing you away.
My love.
My son.
For all of us
You said.
You are gone.
But you are here.