Death leaves no beautiful corpses,
as is to watch you leaving.
Sadly, our once entwined fingers,
now mingle amongst other hands.
Sun light leaves no shadows untouched,
except those laden within your heart.
To watch you leaving,
echos pain as remorseful as a picket breaking warm,
fertile ground, which is married to life;
as alive as my soul.
To hear you no more,
soft foot steps once pattering,
gently in my room; is worse to me than the sun,
fighting it's passion for the moon.
To feel you gone, is a pain deep,
throbbing like never seen or heard before.
How bitter that once eyes, now dry,
betray nothing except me.
In time, I cry for our past travels, love,
for you will not.
