Morning a new once again finds me although this one am I engulfed in bitter mourning and grief so dear it causes me to shake to my very core. With your mind blown from shot of silvered bullet and heart ripped through with blade of cold piercing slicing steel, …..
You can not know that too my mind is blown as my thots can barely take in these quickly fleeing moments. My heart is wrung while spirit is crushed and my soul yearns, Oh! how my soul it yearns deep, deep within me to make some kind of sense in all the mindlessness of this act, this last act of your hand.
I want so much to beat you with my fists hollering, Why? didn't you tell me your thots had taken you to make final journey of your life. Why is it I didn't know till it was too late that that last talk a couple of mornings ago was to be the last one I was to share with you while on what is now known to be the last mile of your life you were trodding. Had I known, had I known, I now lament… had only I known…
Death made "call" to you and Why? did you have to give answer … at least this answer? Why did you not turn away from this call and more so Why? did you not come to me and share with me…..??
Here it is I stand talking to ears so closed off in an earthly deafness and only I here on this side of the mile that separates us wonder can those ears of yours hear on the other side of life's/death's great divide. I stand here over your body laid out in a coffin filled with pillowed softness and can only wonder how goes it with you, the real you that lives on for as from life to death you've passed, you've journey traveled, I am given to question, have you too now passed from death to a life of greater death or in some highly twisted course of events of those last moments did Life you somehow stumble upon? Was there a split second when before the final beat of your heart and breath of your mind did you reach out beyond yourself and find the divine???
I suppose it is those last thots are for my benefit for they give me to go on in a place beyond deepest heart wrenching despair. Just as I could not hear "That Call" upon your life that took you from me so too now I can not hear what the ears of your deepest soul hears….
The scent of this room is so different from the room I was last with you in. There is no scent of the freshly spuen blood of tissue so raw and torn asunder. No reeking stench of the alcohol. Only the scent of the multitude of the flowers sent in your memory. You had so many friends/family and only now a single rose of black I place upon your cold, cold heart….
In tears that cease to flow I am finally given to tear myself from you, yet not before a tear of mine falls and lands on your hand… As your casket is closed that tear fallen from me is so symbolic that too a part of me goes with you yet… farewell my love, farewell…..