Conundrum of Death

The only thing I can equate the level of loss of love is in the mystery of death.

The conundrum of death,
a brazen thief in the night;
violently tore at my heart,
forever blinded my sight.

Good friends lined up
to wish me the best;
ready and at my side
as I lay you to rest.

No flowers, no hearses
no long impressive eulogy;
no explanations, apologies
life has ended for you and me.

At least in your death
there is a definitive end;
no chance we’d again meet,
I cannot begin to comprehend.

But dead you’re certainly not,
you’re breathing, alive with ease;
I’d almost rather the former,
than accept you were merely a tease.

Of course I don’t really mean that,
I’d never wish you or anyone dead;
the longing, the need of you
has me totally out of my head.

Since you’re all but buried,
now it’s time for me to grieve;
my eyes follow you out the door,
without looking back you leave.

Serenity and beauty in death
were never mine to behold;
somewhere deep within you,
remains the story to be told.


Furaha.



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