He Who Has Departed

I pushed him away to stop the pain,

the meaning of death became inane.

He suffered infront of me

I watched so carefully.

He left me one night to cross over

and my life felt as if it was over.

I missed him and to say goodbye,

I wish the dead would truly die.

He haunts me everday

this guilt inside will stay.

I honor his memory and cry alone,

for he left me on my own.

He was my reason

my change in season.

I asked him not to go

his pain then began to grow.

Death the fruit of my sorrow

the souls it must borrow.

Oh, time how crule you've been to me

how blind you are to use who see.

I stand before the box of ash

and hope he's not abash.

I hope he still loves me the same,

I hope he still loves me... the same.