I see you stand alone, at someone's grave.
A single flower held in hands clasp tight,
Your quiet sobbing — Why can't tears behave?
I feel my own tears well, to view this sight.
You look to Heaven — O', I feel the wave;
The pangs of sorrow of a soul, whose fight
A peace would crave,
To rest with yours, entwine.
I walk to you, and yet you hear no sound;
My hand I rest, your shoulder — head recline,
But still your eyes, fixed 'pon this hallowed ground.
Feels like your soul could touch me; crossed the line —
Cruel life I think, and as you turn around
To leave this place, I read the name — 'Tis mine.