Jordan's Grave

The passing years, with gloomy tread, concrete shod and dense as lead, weigh on my downcast heart and mind, abandon dreams and hopes behind. At the resting place where you reside I think of every tear cried, I move the soil and flowers alone, caress the surface of the stone. I grieve each moment of each year for all the times that never were; and time we had is now a ghost; I know not which I miss the most. I clearly see your face and say: "My child, it seems like yesterday that you and I shared love divine and I was yours and you were mine." And bow my head and start to cry, and weep, forever asking "Why?" yet questions of this nature fail, no answers wrought, to no avail. I love you, miss you, pray to give my very soul that you should live; but nothing comes to help me, save the tending to of Jordan's grave...