"The Dead Marble," by Rayan T.

In a statue made of marble, her sorrow shows white,

an echo frozen in time, carved from grief and grace.

She holds the weight of grief right in her hands,

the stillness written all over.

His body drapes lifelessly in her arms,

a fading warmth the marble can't hold.

Nothing remains, no pulse, no breath

carved from everlasting agony.

The stone is as heavy as her heart,

her expression was full of sadness.

A moment caught that will stay with her forever,

where time stands still by her side.

Nothing yet everything is said.

The lifeless body touching her fingers.

Even in death, his story will go on,

unable to  erase what he has done for the world.