Alone, But For How Long?

The night grew weary as it wore on, yet even the day seemed far too long. Roses were not red as color they lacked, instead they were somber in the sadness of black. That morning amidst the fury of rain, this man suffered a most horrible pain. With grey clouds and a flurry of tears, his wife he buried after 22 years. She died that Wednesday when a driver not sober, crossed the median and flipped her car over. Nothing could be done, for the glass did shatter, and pierced her heart in the faintest of matters. When he got home, he arrived to a call, with word that his wife had taken that final fall. Now the world seems empty with her now gone, nothing to live for, for it all has grown wrong. Her pillow he sees has the figure of her head, as she once rested peacefully constantly breathing. No more breath shall fill her lungs, and no more light shall fill her eyes. A cold wind blows with the anger of regret, and tears run slowly as his hands grow wet. A bolt of lightning flashes followed by thunder, for there is nothing left to keep him from going under. Only the pictures mounted or hung suspended in space, serve as lasting memory of her happy, sincere face. Memories still live within his now tormented mind, and that is what he has in order to survive. Her voice has been recorded in a song sung for him, of her undying love and effervescent passion within. The one fact above all that hurts him the most, is knowing that he never said goodbye, but that's also what will push him. A goodbye means farewell, and farewell means never meeting again, and if one is not given, then it must continue. So with every memory he has, every picture kept and note sung, her memory will live on, until they meet again. This is why we should not drink and drive. Written March 19th, 2002 © on Mar 18 2002 04:18 PM PST   0 • 12