Eyes so serene as your body relaxed,
your passing never passed until
a gravestone was all I had.
An edged slab of marble
unwelcoming, cold,
won't compare to the lingering life
so close to behold.
I miss how I missed you
when I missed you the most,
as love's just crux howls
only when losing its host.
Thus through such virtue
I could lastly accept mine,
enough so to nurture,
and cry for my Pieta
one last time.