Under Arrest

I wipe the tears that come without consent
I do not bother halting their descent
Without invitation, this grief makes its ascent
Rises to my throat and makes itself a tent

This sorrow is of pitiful intent
Of separation and loss I am forced to lament
Only he who has lost knows this torment
Shackled and bound, I am under arrest

There is only sadness in my heart
In death’s ugliness today I am caught
Rising and falling, I clutch at my chest
Oh, this pain, I can only resent.