Silence has once more claimed thee,
Uttering no words for these wounded souls,
You're here in spirit the preacher cries,
Yet isn't god suppose to be here too?
I feel no warmth or comfort,
Only the whisper of wind across my ear,
I create a false note,
A simple imagination of grace,
Though I know to well its lie,
To the Earth you are delivered,
Food for the ones we call lowly,
Yet in the end our body belongs to them,
Mere creatures of ground and cold,
My tears join your grave,
Unknown grievances for the unknown dead,
What a waste all of this,
Space, tears, time,
All for but a corpse in a simple wooden box,
Yet here I am among the ignorant,
Watching your shell become a memory,
All I have are those,
Those memories I shared with you,
Some say a waste in its own,
Not as if they'll do me any good,
I smile one last time at you,
And turn to face reality,
I love you dear,
But what good does it do?
(Note: Haven't dealt to much with family death, but alot of my friends have died. This one is for all of them...Miranda, Patrick, Christina, Amber, I miss you...)