Death Never Gets Old

Of the trees that never fall;
And the Leaves that never pale;
The breeze that never goes;
And dreams that never sail:
You set the record of the griefs I had to behold.
Rushing against the clicking clock,
Knowing that
You and I, we do belong;
I knew my life started long ago,
But when I lost you the timing froze.
There were times I would fly in the desert
Looking for a way inside;
I needed a hole to wipe away
All the griefs that followed yours.
Twenty years are quite so short;
Of what my heart tells me, I am sure:
Your death is young; your memory is green,
And I wear black in my head and beneath.

All the colors of this life,
But it has always been so gloomy
That I had to put on a mask
Of moving on:
Who do I lie to?
Myself or the world.
I know that Heaven is where you should be;
I pray that Heaven is where you are,
But deep inside this soul of mine,
Your death sets the record of the griefs I beheld.
Your death started the watch,
And your death gave it an end;
But a closure, a touch, or a breath
A sentence or your silence
I could hold nothing of that
You were a breeze
That passed through me
And now all I have left
Is the shiver of what you have once
Been.

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