Four years
And the acrid proof still swells,
Drags down my face when I recall
The sweetness before the end.

Even angry
Hot metal hatred ready to
Scour a path to him
Something stronger finished first
Lept back and forth to show that
Words meant nothing in the face of
This.

I've worn a cranial path-
So trodden in the search for
How things go on between Two
When one ceases existing.

The why is evident,
The how has fallen to negation.