The Moaning Mourner

Sometimes I reach for you and find an empty space, In the once warm places, Where you used to lie, I moan and sigh, Mourning you so intensely that I wish to die, Just so that I Wont have to say: "I miss you" for yet another day. A whole person you've left burning, Now broken and scattered with yearning, For a face that never floats by, That has ripped the moon from my sky, Leaving an oasis devoid and dry, Without even a goodbye. But as the sun preens in its prime, We shone brightly,beautifully and then ran out of time.