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Your death pushed me into this nugatory black hole.
Stinging sorrow whirling long, sadly out of control.
You fought one courageous battle, in deep pain.
Brave in your sickness, you never complained.
Memories of you, humorous, loving and uniquely smart.
This cold sadness slithers foul inside my frail heart.
I grapple with this dark rotten turmoil.
The flickering dread slows then eerily uncoils.
The third of five wonderful brothers.
Your death dims my soul, I will recover.
My spirit tired and oddly worrisome.
I will remember your special hue of awesome.
Copyright © belinda morgan