May 8, 2015

Airplane Mode 

Having minimal functionality,

I wander in this infernal dead zone.

Constant searching will only drain me,

Not bringing me closer to this unknown.

Infuriating error messages

Represent all that I am receiving,

Instead of my requested presages,

Required to help make sense of grieving.

Comfort commences as they hear the news,

Rallying to attend my every need.

One takes solace in the 'thinking of you's'

As well as in scripture they love to heed.

Eventually they can turn away

Posting meme, picture, and pithy remark,

Turning their walls a glorious array

While mine remains somberly stark.

I hang suspended for who knows how long

Waiting for the all-go light to appear.

On that day, I hope the signal is strong

So that I hear what I would die to hear.