The sickly breath of sorrow passes through,
another life is strangled far too soon;
as panorama fades to tepid view
and sunset seems to fall each day at noon.

As black replaces colours for a time,
religious thoughts aim lightning bolts at God;
with no one else to blame for such a crime
the voice of sanity cuts like a rod.

A vow that every day you’ll cut the scar
and bleed again for one whose love was true;
you kneel and pray nostalgic repertoire
and try to will an answer back to you.

As life goes on the days pass by so fleet
and memories fade to pallid balls of light;
normality returns, you live, you eat
and soon you only cry alone, at night.

Then one day you will hear a tiny voice
a calming influence that says “Be Free,
don’t dwell on death and sorrow – there’s a choice
Be sure that I will live in memory.”

So should you know of death then grieve a while
and then let grief abate and carry on;
if forced to live, then do it with a smile
for that’s the wish of loved ones who are gone.