You Took the Sound with You

Soberly I stand with the grass smothering under my feet

In shatters and shambles as the ring on my finger loses its pair

Longing to fill that fresh hallow cavity between my ribs and the

Echos of each soundless breath that still crawls from my lips

Not a soul dares make a sound; not the birds, not me, not the black garbed mourners, and not you laying still in that wooden

Casket that has now become your home, leaving the four walls we once shared now cold and alone

Each morning I will be forced to wake, will start with the silence that now comes from your side of the bed