What do you do when the talk dries up?
When all you're left with is silence,
The stillness in white, and before you
The devouring endless night?
How do you define loss?
Would it be better if she were snatched from you,
Suddenly, and with an iron fist
The matter settled before you resist?
"We can manage her pain" , they say
As if it were a simple chore,
A minor inconvenience, a sleight-of-hand
And all the while, the hours slip by like sand.
You nod your head, as if it were a trifle
The choking lump which you tried to stifle,
In your throat, growing, rising
To the surface, threatening to give way.
Sudden surge of faith, you pray
For strength, and the will to stay
By her side, and be the one
You ought to be.
Little did you know, 'tis all a haze,
You fooled no one with your show-and-tell
And least of all her, a simple gaze
Did crack the facade, how the mighty fell!
She looks at you with a reassuring smile
And takes your hand, "It's okay, you know,
To be afraid, to show your fear
It's a phony man, who knows not a tear.
The gods themselves do envy us
And play their games, so mischievous
For we, with our wondrous fragility
Outshine their immortal misery.
Our love does shine in a brighter light
And these fleeting moments which are given us,
Than any divine eternal sight,
For 'tis Fate's hand, so ravenous
That brings us this sweet parting... "
Riddle me this, ye wise old men?
If you remember, tell me when
Was the last time you heard or read
Of the Dying consoling the Dead?