Nothing is the same but the love
Death is the dark transformer
for those left behind.
Where promises become
unintentional lies;
Where joy becomes
injustice;
Where tomorrows,
now seemingly worthless,
would be gladly traded for the return
of shared yesterdays;
Where a heart full of life and love becomes
a soul empty enough to endlessly
echo sobs, sighs, and whys;
Where the sweeter the moment was,
the more bitter the memory of it
in loss;
Where the better the company of the one who left,
the greater the loneliness of the one who remains;
Where much laughter
and frequent smiles are replaced with tears
and quiet, desperate heartache;
Where once the flame of passion burned,
all that remains is black ashes of dreams.
5 February 2007