The years have passed like moments
Her scent still hangs in the air
I rise from my tear-stained pillow
And sit in her lonely chair
I am nothing and nowhere without her
Her valiant battle has been lost
The black disease ripped her from me
The soul-reaping holocaust
My life is full of colours;
of reds and greens and blues.
But overwhelming all the rest,
one colour does preside.
A cold harsh black that's always there
It never goes away.
It draws from me my energy,
and my will to live.
My life is full of colours;
of darkening shades of grey.
I really cannot cope with this,
this grey and black disease.
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