Opened windows, there is nothing to see.
All is still yet I discern
night's approach, my soul's sister.
He has come for me. The Great Unseen.
Why are silences longer
than our laughter, our joys, our days?
Slow, thick time creeps through my
veins, not blood, not life-giving blood,
no, but sorrow, death-like sorrow.
Sadness for lives left unlived,
decisions left unmade.
Silence for words I did not speak,
understood by him who did not speak.
Longing for him whom I lost.
Loving him as a ghost of my memory.
Loving him I remain.