Grief

You are hell bound, Your sounds resound, A faint echo of my own shadowing reflection. I grasp a mug from behind the door, And yet its remains shatter among the tiles, Glittering like eyes upon the floor. I know your there to feel, A knowing familiar smell, And yet to physically touch you, My tips can’t seem to dwell. The mirrors to your past have ceased, I cannot stare at them as well, It is enough to see your face, Each time you set your fearsome spell. They said you'd left me, Flashing lights the uniform informing, And yet how little you have left, Your time is still yet dawning. So hold me tight, Remove the remaining light that flickers in my limbs, For if I am to be haunted, I’ll be mourned in church by hymns.