Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Call this assurance if you must;
But when it's time to say Farewell
To one you love, it's just plain hell.

There are no words, no healing balm,
To fill the void, to ease the calm;
And not a thing that one can say
Will drive the quick hot tears away.

We look upon the empty chair
And seek the one no longer there;
And so heartbreaking is the pain
We question if we'll meet again.

How grim indeed, if death should be
The Bitter End--- Eternity;
Just some vague dream conceived by Man
And not a part of any plan.

But God has taken such great care
To note the sparrow in the air;
His Love alone can cover all
And Mark a simple Sparrows' fall.

And if he cares for the birds that fly,
then he must hear My Anguished cry;
"Dear God, I yield my grief to Thee
For Thou alone can comfort me."

We were never meant to be.
The poetry I wrote,
**You didn't read.

It's not as much butterflies in my stomach anymore.
They've migrated to my throat,
Choking me off.
I want to say something beautiful
Paint a picture of eloquence that would take your breath away,
But apparently I'm the one lacking air.
What used to fill my whole being with a flush anticipation
Has caused a fickle for my respiration.
Under the cluster of wings in my throat
I feel each movement-
The hum of so called life
(But will I still be living when I lack air?).
These butterflies have lone gone from wonderful and turned
Disastrous.
It makes me wonder how something so beautifully fragile could turn so
Deadly.