We may never stop wondering how the milk turned sour.
We may never hear the voice that called out to which our beloved heeded and bowed out without a goodbye.
We may never see the hands that snuffed life out of that harmless chick as it stretched and kicked till the bucket was empty.
We only feel the wind rushing down and becomes still after then.
Who knows if it runs in distress or bliss?
A baby cries when it needs help, how will the fingerling call out for help?
We will never have all the answers to all the questions life poses.
We have to forge on in the midst of these endless uncertainties.
The answers will come on as the journey advances.
Like a soldier, onward bound...